Misconception
by S.C. Preclarus Noctis
Summary: Within the innermost circle of the Death Eaters,there is a spy for the Order.No one,except Dumbledore,knows who he is.His faith in himself begins to wear out,suspicions are on the rise,betrayal occurs, and love is forbidden. hiatus
1. Mole

**_Misconception_**

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and everything related to it are owned by J.K Rowling. This fic was **written before HBP, so Dumbledore is still alive.**

**Synopsis:**** (Written BEFORE HBP)** Within the innermost circle of Death Eaters, there is a spy for the Order. No one, except Dumbledore, knows his identity. As suspicions arise and as tensions mount, he begins to lose faith in himself, and the only one who can save him from himself is someone he is forbidden to love.

**Chapter 1: Mole**

It was a dark and dismal place--somewhere to be avoided at the midnight hour. A few hags lingered in the dark corners, mumbling nonsense to themselves and twitching accordingly. Somewhere within the otherwise silent train station, water dripped noisily. Its splitter and splatter echoed throughout the dark tunnel. Since the beginning of the great war, every part, even Platform 9 ¾ had become polluted with the scum of the wizarding world. The war was everyone's primary concern--everything else became a trivial matter that could be dealt with much later. The wizarding world had shattered into a great mess, and no one could pick up the jagged shards.

Leaning against a wall was a silhouette of a boy, who was no older than seventeen. He wore long, black robes that barely touched the ground. One hand was in his pocket, while the other held a lit cigarette. A great puff of smoke erupted from his lips.

The war had gone out of hand; Voldemort was beyond what the Order expected. No matter how they tried, they could not stop the Death Eaters. Everyday, new Death Eaters were recruited, and they were outnumbering the Order.

Despair held the Order captivity already. Many, out of fear, had turned their backs on the Order and joined the Death Eaters. There were none that remained completely neutral; you were either with the Order or with the Death Eater, and that was the first rule of war.

Taking another drag from his cigarette, the young man frowned. He started to lose faith in himself and questioned his motives. No one had asked him to help out, but he did it anyway--he was a spy for the Order. However, the main problem was that no one, except Dumbledore, knew about it. To the Order, he was still a young Death Eater, who somehow made his way to Voldemort's inner circle--no doubt, his father had something to do with it. Nonetheless, the Order was not stupid; they knew about the moles among the Death Eaters, but the identity of each spy was not to be revealed until the war was over.

For the millionth time, he wondered, _What if I died before the war ends? What then? It would be forever etched on my tombstone that I am nothing more than a despicable Death Eater. _

He sighed.

The young man stepped away from the wall and looked down the empty, dark tunnel. He squinted his eyes. There were no signs of the Hogwarts Express. Dumbledore sent him the late train because of a delayed Death Eater meeting. No matter how many times he had insisted on flying to Hogwarts, Dumbledore refused to comply. It would be too suspicious.

He scoffed, throwing the cigarette on the moist ground. _Like no one will suspect a thing when I come to school late._

Suddenly, he heard the train approach from a distance. In a blink of an eye, the train was before him and patiently wated for him to climb aboard. Without any hesitation, he dragged his trunk on the train, ignoring the conductor's apologies of the inconvenient delay. He collapsed on the chair in the nearest compartment, not even bothering to put his trunk on the top. Not until now did he realize how exhausted he was.

_Perhaps the cigarette was the only thing keeping me awake…_

With that last thought, he closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep. His hour of peace was abruptly interrupted by the conductor shaking him awake. Too sore to carry his own trunk (he had been sleeping in a rather awkward position), he muttered a spell to make the trunk hover behind him.

When he reached the great doors of Hogwarts, he was greeted by a stern looking woman--Professor McGonagall.

She nodded in acknowledgment and stated, "The headmaster would like to see you in his office immediately."

He nodded in return and followed her through the doors, through the twists and turns of the corridors, and finally to the entrance of Dumbledore's office. McGonagall said the long and absurd password ("Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans!") and motioned him to step onto the moving stairways.

When he arrived in Dumbledore's office, the old man greeted him with a welcoming smile. The well-known twinkle still remained in his old eyes, but he looked tired. The young man mutely reached into his robes and pulled out a thick package. He plopped it on Dumbledore's desk.

"It's all the information, regarding the Order's plan of attacks and how they are going to attack back. Somehow, they know all of the Order's plans," the young man explained, as Dumbledore looked through the many parchments with diagrams and writings.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted as the door flew open. By the _clunk_ of each step the person took, there was no mistake that it was Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody. His magical eye moved around erratically in his eye socket, as he hobbled toward Dumbledore's desk.

He glared at the student and growled, "What's _he_ doing here?"

"Ah, Moody," said Dumbledore, slowly standing up from his seat. "This is just a student of mine who arrived late this evening—"

"Death Eater meetings last very long, don't they?" growled Moody, as both of his eyes focused on the young man.

Expressionless, the student stared back at the scarred-face ex-Auror.

"I'm telling you, Dumbledore," said Moody, still eyeing the student angrily, "You should never let Death Eaters into the school, especially this one."

"I can assure you—" Dumbledore began.

Moody pulled out his wand. "I've been on to you," he said, tapping his wand on the young man's nose as he said each word. As his anger increased, the eye in his socket began to whirl about madly in his eye socket. "I knew you'd turn out to be just like your scum father--!"

"Lower your wand." Dumbledore said calmly. "Death Eater or not, young Mr. Malfoy is still a student of Hogwarts, and he is under my protection."


	2. The Dark Mark

_**Misconception**_

**Chapter 2: The Dark Mark**

Growling, Moody poked his wand into Draco's chest. However, the Slytherin remained completely emotionless and continued to stare blankly at the ex-Auror, who was shaking with indignation. Moody stomped his wooden leg on the ground in frustration, knowing that Dumbledore was not going to listen to a word he said about Malfoy.

"I don't trust this one!" Moody barked again. "His looks and acts are too much like his father. You never know, Dumbledore! He could be threatening or blackmailing other students for Voldemort!"

Draco did not flinch. The position he held required him to be void of all emotions and expressions. No one knew what he was thinking, and even if they tried through Occulemency, they could not penetrate the great wall in Draco's mind. He mastered Occulemency easily, almost as good as the Dark Lord himself.

"That's enough, Moody." Dumbledore said in a calm but commanding tone. "Young Malfoy is only here to receive his Head Boy duties. But seeing that your matters are more urgent, you may tell me what you are here for, Moody."

Still glaring at Draco, Moody put his wand in his shabby robe pocket. With an angry sigh, he sat down on one of the wooden chairs and began reaching inside his other robe pocket. His magical eye quickly swerved and stared straight at Draco. A pause. Moody frowned suspiciously at Draco.

Dumbledore, noticing this, nodded at Moody and said, "You may leave now, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco nodded and made his way to the exit of the office. When he got to the door, he hesitated a moment. He looked back and saw that both of them were waiting for him to exit. Not wasting a second, he thought of something to say.

"When will I know what my Head Boy duties are, sir?" he asked Dumbledore.

("You let him become Head Boy? Are you out of your mind, old man?" muttered Moody, angrily).

For a split second, Dumbledore looked a bit nonplussed having just informed Draco his Head Boy duties will be given the next day. This went away as soon as it came. The old headmaster quickly caught on—with a twinkle in his eyes. He smiled.

"I will send for you tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore.

Draco nodded and left the office. When the door was shut, Draco could hear the muffled exclaims of Moody, who was thoroughly convinced that Dumbledore had gone out of his mind. Draco smirked and could not help but to feel a bit amused at the situation. He went down the spiral staircase and came upon the dark, empty corridor. Still feeling tired, he decided it was best for him to go to the Slytherin dormitories and get some rest.

The common room was cold. Draco always thought it was a bit thick of them to put the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. It was always cold, even in the summer. He went into his separate room, muttering darkly about setting the common room on fire one day. He collapsed on the bed, worn out and exhausted from the day. In a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

His eyes opened too soon; he woke up too early. For all he knew, it was probably still dark outside. He closed his eyes and pulled the thick blankets over his head. _Go back to sleep, go back to sleep…_It was no use. No matter how hard he tried to fall asleep again, his eyes always managed to keep themselves wide open. It didn't matter how tired he was; when his eyes were open, they _stayed_ open. _As if eyeballs have minds of their own_...Draco groaned and rolled over on the bed.

He pulled the blanket away from his head and wearily looked at his watch. It was only four in the morning. His first class didn't start until eight. He groaned again and got up from the warm and comfortable bed. He dressed in his Slytherin robes and pinned his Head Boy badge on. He looked through his bag, making sure he had everything for the day. Putting the strap of the bag over his shoulder, he left his room, finding the common room very cold and empty. _As usual_.

As expected, the Great Hall was completely empty. The house-elves were probably still asleep in their little beds. Draco ran his hand through his blonde hair. What could he do while the rest of Hogwarts slept soundly in their beds?

Before he even had time to contemplate it, a sharp pain pierced his right arm. It burned. He felt as if someone put his arm into fire and stabbed it continuously. _It burned._ He bit his lip, trying not to gasp out in pain. He had to endure this pain. After calming his nerves, he knew exactly what was going on. Voldemort was furious because the attack did not go right. It was the attack they planned to strike earlier this morning. The Dark Mark burned his skin raw because he of his guilty conscience. He was the traitor, and he was responsible for this. However, Voldemort did not know that. All the Dark Lord knew was that he had been outwitted by the Order yet again.

Draco could clasped his hand around the burning mark and attempted to stifle the pain. He leaned against the cold, stone wall and slid to the ground. He closed his eyes, praying for the pain to go away. After a while, the pain slowly faded away. Shakily, Draco exhaled and inhaled; he practically held his breath the whole time.

When the burn stopped, he opened his eyes and pulled his robe sleeve up. Burned on his arm was a hideous mark of a skull, with a snake going through it. It was just fading from a reddish color--his skin was raw. He let out a long breath.

Slowly, he stood up, and his head immediately felt dizzy. He shook his head and, in staggered steps, walked outside to the cool, morning breeze. By the lake, he set down his bag and sat on the soft gross. It was still wet from the morning dew, but that was the least of his worries. The sun was just peeking its golden head out of the lake's horizon. Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Trembling, he pulled out one cigarette.

After a while, he felt completely calm. He had been hit by the burn of the Dark Mark many of times, and it was usually gone because he had responded by Apparating. However, this time, he could not Apparate because he was on Hogwarts' grounds.

_I should go to Dumbledore about this…_

After he finished his cigarette, he swiftly threw into the lake.He got up from the grass and walked back towards the castle to see Dumbledore. By the time he got back, there were a few people in the Great Hall. Draco looked in and saw Dumbledore sitting in the front table. He couldn't tell him now, not in front of all the people who had arrived. Taking Dumbledore's words, he agreed that it would definitely _look suspicious. _

The sausages and eggs certainly made him feel better. However, the good feeling did not last as long as he had hoped. Pansy Parkinson sauntered toward the Slytherin table and sat down next to him. Draco groaned inwardly.

"And where were _you_ yesterday?" inquired Pansy, raising an eyebrow.

"Why _must_ you know?" snapped Draco, getting up from his seat.

Before Pansy could say another word, Draco had already walked away from the table. When he got of the Great Hall, it started again. The Dark Mark started to burn painfully, and Draco tried to fight it. The pain was so great that he didn't even realized he had stopped in the middle of the corridor, grasping his arm.

He staggered toward the nearest wall and sat on the ground, leaning against the wall. The pain began to go away, and he heard his own breath become a bit shaky. He even heard the fast beats of his heart. He stared down at his arm, wondering why Voldemort had called the Death Eaters twice…

"Why are you sitting on the ground?"

He looked up and saw the youngest Weasley staring down at him, with a puzzled expression. Her fiery red hair was tied up in a ponytail, with a few loose strands that fell next to her face. She was carrying a tattered school book and an old, secondhand bag hung on one of her shoulders.

"None of your business, Weasley." snapped Draco irritably. He quickly got up from the cold floor. Immediately, he felt light headed and staggered.

The youngest Weasley caught him by the arm and said, "Light headed? That's what you get for standing up too quickly, you prat."

Draco glared at her and wrenched his arm away from her grasp.

"Only trying to keep you from falling," she said, pulling her strap on her shoulder to keep it from sliding off.

Before he could open his mouth to snap back, he was shoved against the wall by the other Weasley, Ron.

"Leave my sister alone," he snarled.

Before Draco could even respond to _this_ situation, Ron let go of him and walked away, beckoning his sister to follow. Looking a bit alarmed, Ginny reluctantly followed him into the Great Hall. Within a few seconds, Potter and Granger walked by Draco, without even glancing at him. Of course, they had worries of their own. Draco was sure Potter was not allowed to exist without something tragic happening to him.

"Are you sure you're all right, Harry?" he heard Granger say in an annoyingly worried tone.

"I'm fine," Potter said irritably. "It's not like this is the first time my scar has hurt…You make it seem like it's the end of the world, Hermione."

Draco saw Granger looking a bit hurt at this comment.

_Oh, but of course, Potter didn't mean it!_ Draco thought melodramatically and smirked. Such amusing and melodramatic entertainments were rare. He fought the urge to taunt Potter, as he watched the two love birds quarrel over a petty scar. True, Draco was actually helping Potter in the war, but old rivalries never die. Besides, it was fun seeing Potter go crazy over nothing—like always.

"I know, but whenever your scar hurts it could mean many things…Like that one time…" Granger trailed off.

_Cue the violins! _Draco thought with another smirk, as he leaned on the stone walls and watched.

He watched Potter slip his hand into Granger's, pulling her to the side of the Great Hall doors. He turned to assure her that everything would be all right and slowly pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered something that made Potter chuckle. Rolling his eyes, Draco walked away, thinking that it had to be the most disgusting thing he had to witness in his life. Happy endings just never worked out for Draco.


	3. Unknown

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: I own none of the HP things.**

**Author's Notes: **EDIT This chapter and chapters prior to this have been edited to fill in plot-holes

Thank you, all who have reviewed! I really appreciate the feedback. Reviews are very nice. Sorry for this crappy chapter. I find it somewhat cheesy…Hope it's okay. I promise to update more.

**Chapter 3: Unknown**

In the middle of Charms, a portrait had loudly interrupted the class to tell Draco that he was to see the headmaster immediately. Everyone's eyes were fixed on Draco, and a few murmurs were heard all around the classroom. Ignoring them, Draco hurriedly stuffed his book in his bag and left the room. Within a few steps, the bell rang, signaling the storm of hungry students for their lunch break. Draco found this most inconvenient, wondering why a genius like Dumbledore was not smart enough to figure out he had called him just two minutes before lunch. A stream of students, both chattering and laughing, spilled out of each classroom door--all making their way to the Great Hall. Draco groaned inwardly, as he tried to maneuver upstream.

When he arrived at the end of the corridor, where Dumbledore's office was located, he saw Potter come down the rotating spiral staircase. When the staircase came to a halt, Potter and Draco caught each other's glare. Perhaps Potter was dropped on the head when he was a baby--he always wanted to interrogate Draco, when he knew that there were going to be no answers. Potter was, of course, suspicious of Draco's daily visits to Dumbledore's office.

Potter stayed in front of the entrance, which greatly perturbed the Slytherin. He always knew Gryffindors had a getting-their-knickers-in-a-twist disposition about them. Potter, of course, was the natural leader of this. Chuckling a little, Draco decided to play along…

"Care to move out of the way?" said Draco casually.

"How's your boss doing these days, Malfoy?" asked Potter sarcastically, "I hear he's pretty angry because none of his plans are going right."

_Oh, Potter, you're a moron. I can't wait to see the look on your face when you finally find out that it was because of me that none of the Dark Lord's plans went right. _

"And I hear the Order is filled with bloody cowards who are either killed or tortured into submission by Death Eaters." Draco shot back with a trademark smirk.

"And I hear there is desertion among the Death Eaters." Potter retorted indignantly.

"You heard wrong, Scar Head," Draco said with an air of superiority. "All deserters are killed—basic rules of war."

"There are no rules to war," said Potter angrily. "Do you take pride in torturing scores of witches and wizards and not to mention, innocent Muggles?"

"Potter, unless you've been living in a cave all these years—well, technically speaking, you have lived in a cupboard, so I don't know—but anyway, no one ever said war was just a stroll in the park," said Draco, watching Potter's face grow white with anger. "but I suppose ignorance is bliss."

Without another word, Draco brushed back the astonished Boy-Who-Lived and made his way up the spiraling stair case. Potter turned and glared daggers at the Slytherin, who sarcastically smiled and waved as he slowly ascended to Dumbledore's main office. Draco laughed quietly to himself once he reached the top of the stairs.

"It's been a while since I've actually seen you smile, Draco." said Dumbledore, opening his arms as a gesture of greeting.

"I smile." Draco protested irritably. Dumbledore did have a tendency to sound like his mother. '

Dumbledore shook his head and said nothing further on the subject. "I'm happy to say that you've done an excellent job so far. Because of the information last night, we were able to avoid another attack on the Ministry."

"I bet Voldemort wasn't too happy about that," said Draco, remembering the burn this morning and picturing the extreme agitation the Dark Lord must have experienced.

"I daresay he was not." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Draco nodded and said, "I felt the burn this morning—bloody painful. I've never experienced the real burn before because I was always to Apparate in time. But since I'm in Hogwarts…"

"I'm afraid you'll have to endure the pain, for now. There is no way you can Disapparate out of Hogwarts." said Dumbledore, leaning back on his chair.

"Then what do you suggest I do for the time being? Should I find another way to get to the Dark Lord or —"

"No, young Malfoy," interrupted Dumbledore. "For now, I suggest you take a little break; live a normal life—"

"Normal? Half the damn school knows I'm a Death—"

"We don't want them to give the other half more reasons to believe that you are," explained Dumbledore. "And as much as you may disagree with this, you need your education. Don't worry about it—Oh, you've done more than enough for the Order. You will resume your duties in December, when you return to your family."

Dumbledore patted Draco on the shoulder and said, "Get some rest, young Mr. Malfoy. You've been looking like the dead ever since the beginning of the summer. Why don't you go to the next Hogsmeade trip to get your mind off of things?"

There was only twenty minutes left of lunch by the time Draco had arrived in the Great Hall. Some students were emptying out to get ready for their next class. Draco sat at the very end of the Slytherin table, eating what was left of the food. He watched the people pass him by, going on with their lives as if the war wasn't even happening. A group of Ravenclaw girls were giggling and eyeing a few Gryffindor blokes. He saw friends from mixed houses laughing and joking, as they harmoniously walked out of the Great Hall.

Somehow, he was supposed to go back to a state where he had to be oblivious to what was going on. _Live life normally? _How could he live life normally, after all the things he had witnessed over the year? The tortures, the killings, the attacks—he was there for almost every one of them. Life would never be normal again.

**Three weeks later…**

"Are you going to Hogsmeade?" said Pansy, who was sitting uncomfortably close to Draco in the library.

"No," he snapped, not taking his eyes off the parchment he was writing on.

"Why not?" asked Pansy, looking a bit crestfallen.

"I'm busy tomorrow."

"Doing what?"

"Your mother."

"Immature prick."

"I take that as a compliment." Draco said with ease.

"You're impossible!" sighed Pansy, as she flipped through a dusty book on the table.

"And you're annoying."

"I'm sure Blaise would _love_ to go with me." Pansy said, trying to catch a bit of Draco's attention.

"I'm sure he would." Draco said, not really paying attention.

"Oh! Forget it!" exclaimed Pansy, slamming the book shut and sending dust flying everywhere.

"I will." Draco said dully, trying to blink away the dust.

"You never do anything fun."

"I'm a boring person."

"You weren't before…now all you do is homework and read a bunch of books in the library."

"There's nothing else to do."

"You _can _go to Hogsmeade with me."

"Too ghastly."

"The weather?"

"That too."

It took Pansy a few seconds to realize that the last remark was an insult directed toward her. Pansy said no more. She got up, knocked over a chair ("Miss Parkinson!" hissed the librarian), and stormed away. Draco looked up and watched her with a smirk.

With a content sigh, Draco looked at his essay again for Defense of the Dark Arts. However, his writing was interrupted when a loud noise of a chair scratching against the wooden floor came. He looked up and saw Blaise, who sat across from Draco.

"Zabini," said Draco, stiffly.

Blaise had just returned to Hogwarts last week because of "family troubles" with the war. Draco knew it was a lie, and he knew that Blaise was a Death Eater. They were like partners amongst the Death Eaters, but they were not the greatest of friends. If Blaise ever found out about Draco's truth, he would kill him with no mercy, for he was completely loyal to Voldemort.

"I haven't seen you around since I've gotten back," said Blaise, "You're always lurking about in your room or somewhere…"

"Please, Zabini, you make it sound like we're married." Draco snapped irritably.

Blaise rolled his eyes. He picked up Draco's Defense Against the Dark Arts book and flipped through it. He raised an eyebrow at a particular chapter and set the book down.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts…" said Zabini in a thoughtful tone. "Hogwarts wouldn't be such a horrible school if it actually taught us the Dark Arts."

Draco was vaguely reminded of his former self when Blaise made this comment. He remembered when he was in first year that he said this to Potter and his friends. They weren't very pleased about this, and Draco was no finding Blaise awfully annoying. He refrained from rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Draco shrugged and did not answer him. Blaise leaned forward and whispered, "You have to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow to meet an Unknown."

Draco frowned and looked up, seeing Blaise's serious expression. The Unknown Death Eaters were the ones that were not on the Ministry's radar. The Unknowns kept a low profile and attracted little attention. Their job consisted of spying, assassinating, and delivering important messages. The names of each Unknown were kept a secret, even from the Death Eaters. Their names were only known to a few and Voldemort.

"Why?" asked Draco. "Do you know?"

"Might have something to do with the failed attacks," said Blaise leaning back and crossing him arms. "but I don't see what that has to do with you…" He eyed Draco suspiciously.

"No," said Draco firmly. "It shouldn't—must be something else then?"

"What else could there be?"

"Don't be thick," said Draco. "It could be about the attacks in Manchester last week."

"Nothing really eventful happened," said Blaise. Suddenly, he smiled—a glint of madness appeared in his eyes. "Except when they burned Woodrick for desertion."

Draco winced as the poor man's screams of agony echoed throughout his mind. The image was most horrifying, and Draco felt sick to his stomach as he witnessed this. The other Death Eaters were cheering, as if watching a circus show. Woodrick's flesh was burnt to crisps, and Draco almost fainted at the sight of the black skeleton tied to the stake. The skeleton's mouth was still open in mid-scream.

"Where should I meet him?" said Draco, pushing away these thoughts.

"Next to the Shrieking Shack, three o'clock sharp." said Blaise affirmatively.

* * *

Draco stood next to the barb-wired fence that surrounded the Shrieking Shack. Supposedly, it was haunted by ghosts that cry out in the most terrible sound. He wouldn't know, for it has always stayed silent. Draco checked his watch: three o'clock.

"Draco Malfoy."

Draco turned around and saw a hooded figure. The Unknown had robes of dark blue, and the hood covered his eyes completely. He walked forward and stood a distance from Draco.

"Your father sends his regards." he said, softly, in an almost mocking tone.

Showing no expression of indignation, Draco merely nodded. There was no use mouthing off to an Unknown.

"The Dark Lord is very angry at the fact that none of the attacks have gone in order. He suspects that there is a mole somewhere amongst the Death Eaters." said the Unknown, getting straight to the point.

"And you're telling me because…?" Draco said, completely nonplussed.

"Malfoy, although you are in the top ranks, you are still a recruit in many ways," explained the Unknown, "You're still young, still immature, still filled with the ignorance of youth…The Dark Lord and Lucius just want to let you know that you should not let the Hogwarts-talk get in your way of thinking. You must know that the Dark Lord holds the right path to the wizarding world, not that old fool Dumbledore or the young hero, Harry Potter."

"They have nothing to worry about." Draco said through gritted teeth.

"Ah, but how can they be so sure?" inquired the Unknown. He chuckled quietly and said, "Veritaserum!"

Draco's stomach churned uncomfortably, and he felt the knot in his chest get tighter. However, he held his same expression of indifference. Swiftly, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and took one out. He could sense the Unknown eye it suspiciously. Draco offered him one, but he refused it.

Blowing a ring of smoke into the Unknown's hood, Draco asked, "You want to give me Veritaserum? Is that your order?"

"No, no you are—"

"Alright, so he wants to give a truth potion to every Death Eater," interrupted Draco. "There are thousands of us."

"Just to those who act suspiciously," answered the Unknown with a slight cough. "Your father has requested that you are not to be administered the truth potion, since you already have before."

A wave of relief swept through Draco. His muscles relaxed and he found his blood flowing much easier.

"Anything else?" asked Draco.

"Have you heard anything about the Order at Hogwarts? From Dumbledore?" asked the Unknown.

"None."

The Unknown seemed very unsatisfied with the answer but nodded anyway.

"Have they used the truth potion on the prisoners yet?" asked Draco.

"Yes," replied the hooded figure. "However, they have all fought the truth and gave us little information. The others have been tortured, but they refuse to give out any information."

"Torturing is no use." said Draco in a frustrated tone. "The people of the Order are far too loyal. What are the lieutenants doing now?"

"Like you said, Mr. Malfoy, torturing them is no use,"said the Unknown. He sneered and said, "They torture their families now."

"How many?" asked Draco quickly.

"A fair amount. Not nearly enough in my humble opinion." Draco sensed a tone of superiority.

The Unknown was about to say more, but his head quickly turned to a sound. Draco heard it too; it was approaching footsteps.

"The conversation will end here." the Unknown said and Disapparated just as the person approached.

Draco turned around and groaned inwardly. Standing behind him was the youngest and probably the most annoying Weasely: Ginny.

"Was there someone else here?" she asked.

Acting bewildered, Draco blew out a smoke and said, "Why would you think that?"

"You smoke?" she said, frowning in disgust.

"Sometimes." he answered truthfully. Draco threw down the cigarette and put it out with the heel of his shoe. "What do you want, Weasley?" he asked, looking up from the ground.

"Nothing," she answered, as she walked up to the barb-wired fence and stood next to him.

She looked at the melancholy building and sighed. From what Draco could tell, she was worried. Her eyes showed it; they were filled with such sadness and anxiety. No doubt, she was worried about her family, for all of them were in the Order. However, something must have occurred to make her look like this. Most of the time, when Draco saw her, she was completely fine.

"I want this to end," she whispered, softly. Her eyes were still fixed on the distance in front of her.

Draco did not know what to say. He was not sure if that was directed to him, or if she was just thinking quietly to herself. For a mere second, he wanted to assure her that the despair would not last long, for the Order was gradually gaining back its power. However, the second passed, and he realized that she was a Weasley—a stupid Weasley, for that matter. The second of that thought did not exist anymore. Even if she wasn't a Weasley, he wouldn't tell her that because it would give away his position. That second never existed.

Instead, he offered her a cigarette. In his mind, it was a nice gesture of comfort. He smoked whenever he was stressed or nervous…

"No, thanks." she declined. "You shouldn't smoke; it's a nasty Muggle habit."

"I know." he said.

"Yet you still do it..." she said, looking away from the Shrieking Shack and at Draco.

Draco shrugged and said, "It's my life, Weasley."

She said no more. Draco quietly walked away from her. However, she didn't even notice that he was gone. When Draco looked behind his shoulder, he saw her gaze at the Shrieking Shack again. The silence of the once haunted building was like the silence of her agonizing mind. For a flicker of a moment, Draco wondered if he should turn back and ask what happened; it would break the silence. The flicker was gone; the moment never existed. It was silent.


	4. The Interrogation

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter? I own nothing of the sort!

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long update. Here it is: chapter four. There's not a lot of action in this one, just information that may or may not be vital to future chapters (depends on my mood) Haha. I promise there will be more Draco/Ginny action in the next chapter.** Oh yeah, and I didn't proofread this chapter that well, so beware of grammatical mistakes,etc. **

**Chapter 4: The Interrogation**

It was just an hour after the meeting of the Unknown. Draco was quickly making his way to the headmaster's office. The castle was seemingly empty because everyone, with the exception of first and second years, was enjoying their trip at Hogsmeade. His foot steps echoed, as he walked down the empty corridor. Finally, he arrived at the statue of the gargoyle, which stood tall and proud at the entranceway.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," muttered Draco.

The gargoyle sprang to life and revealed a stairway, which started spiraling upwards. Quickly, Draco stepped on the steps and waited until the stairs reached the top. When it came to a stop, Draco went inside Dumbledore's office. To his surprise, he found it empty. He looked around the office in great bewilderment. The many portraits of past headmasters were sleeping soundly and did not notice Draco in the office. Dumbledore's strange looking instruments and things remained untouched and motionless.

Fawkes, the phoenix, was perched next to Dumbledore's desk. He was watching Draco intently. Deciding the only option was to wait for the headmaster, Draco plopped down on the seat in front of Dumbledore's desk. He sighed as he looked around the office once more. Fawkes made a soft coo, as Draco heard the door of the office opening. He did not turn his head, for he knew it was Dumbledore.

"Hello, young Malfoy, I see you've decided not to go to Hogsmeade," came Dumbledore's voice from behind.

Draco smirked and turned his head. The headmaster was slowly walking towards him, with the same twinkle in his eyes. Dumbledore finally sat down at his desk and put his hands together.

"Is Hogsmeade losing its touch?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco shrugged and said, "I went for an hour and stayed mostly by the Shrieking Shack."

There was a pause, and Dumbledore looked at Draco. He caught something and smiled. "I know there is more to this, young Malfoy." he said.

"That," said Draco, "is correct."

Dumbledore nodded and told him to go on. No one would be able to hear anything, for the office of Dumbledore was completely sound proof from the outside. With a wave of a wand, Dumbledore locked the office door, so no one could barge in during the middle of the conversation.

"Blaise Zabini informed me that an Unknown wished to see me today at three, next to the Shrieking Shack. The Unknown didn't really say much. He said that the Dark Lord is getting suspicious of spies within the Death Eaters, and he's planning on administering Veritaserum to anyone who acts like a spy. The prisoners that they've captured have fought the truth potion, and they remain completely loyal to you. As a result to that, they've decided to torture families…" explained Draco in an almost careless tone.

Dumbledore remained expressionless, but the twinkle in his eye was gone. He looked relatively calm and did not think of it as much.

"Was there anything else?" he asked.

"No," said Draco, rolling his eyes at the thought of it. "The Unknown left because Ginny Weasley decided to show up."

Dumbledore frowned and said, "Did Miss Weasley see anything?"

Draco shook his head. He hesitated a moment and asked, "Has anything—er—dramatic happened to the Weasley family recently?"

Dumbledore sighed and said, "Charlie Weasley was severely injured in the most recent battle, and he's fighting to recover."

A battle had occurred near the Ministry of Magic in France. It was sudden, and the army did not expect Voldemort's army of Death Eaters to attack with so many. Many people were killed and many more were injured. The Death Eaters had taken over the Ministry of France when the battle was over.

The headmaster was quiet for a moment. He looked like he was in deep thought, and Draco did not interrupt the silence. Finally, Dumbledore bid him leave and told him to rest. Draco obliged and left the office.

The next day, Dumbledore left Hogwarts to attend business for the Order.

Draco was leaning against a tree next to the lake. The sun was just about to set, and the sky turned a shade of red and orange. The lake looked more like the sea, from where Draco was standing; it was endless. The sun slowly sank, showering millions of sparkles onto the lake. The peace was ruined by a slight burn igniting from the Dark Mark. Draco winced a little. It stopped. The Dark Lord was probably feeling a bit moody. Draco rolled his eyes at the thought.

He continued to watch the sunset. His thoughts were on the war and how glad he would be when it came to an end. He would no longer be a Death Eater, and he would not longer have to endure the burn that came every once in a while from the Dark Mark….

"Oy, Malfoy!"

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. He looked behind him and saw Blaise walking down the hill towards him. When Blaise was beside him, Draco nodded an acknowledgement.

"I didn't see you at all yesterday," said Blaise, lighting up a cigarette in his mouth casually. "How did it go?"

"The Dark Lord suspects spies now." replied Draco monotonously. "And he wants to torture more families."

Blaise grinned, as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. Draco looked back at the lake, with no expression on his face. He just wanted to be left alone. A silence settled between them. Blaise was looking out at the lake too, occasionally inhaling from his cigarette. He flicked the ash off the tip of his cigarette and reached into his pocket.

"You know, I'm surprised that the Muggles haven't noticed anything yet." began Blaise conversationally.

"That's because they never notice anything," snapped Draco, irritated at the fact that Blaise was still standing there.

"When do you think the Dark Lord will start the kidnappings of the, ah, selected few here?" said Blaise.

Draco paused for a moment and turned his head to face Blaise. "I honestly don't think it will ever happen, not while they're in Hogwarts."

"Why?" asked Blaise, raising an eyebrow.

Draco rolled his eyes irritably. _Moron. _"Because," said Draco, impatiently, "Dumbledore is the only wizard he's been afraid of. The Dark Lord won't admit it, but I think it's pretty obvious that he's scared shitless of the old man."

Blaise stopped smoking and stared at Draco. Draco shrugged and looked at the lake again. There was a stretch of silence that lasted for what seemed like forever. However, Blaise finally gave a small chuckle and pulled out a cigarette from the pack. From the corner of his eyes, Draco could see Blaise vaguely examining the cigarette and then handing it to Draco. He narrowed his eyes but saw nothing suspicious of the cigarette. However, the truth potion was transparent. He did not trust Blaise, especially not after what he just said about the Dark Lord.

"I quit." said Draco, curtly.

He looked at Blaise straight in the face, and he could have sworn he saw a mere second of disappointment in his eyes.

"I just saw you smoking yesterday."

"Yeah, well," said Draco. "I decided I wanted to keep my lungs."

"Are you sure?" inquired Blaise, in an almost persuading manner. "You used to smoke packs during the summer."

"I can't sleep as it is." snapped Draco.

"I see."

Blaise pocketed the pack of cigarettes and threw his own on the ground. He stepped on it and said, "So who do you think is winning?"

"We are, of course." said Draco, automatically. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Blaise change his expression. Draco spoke too soon. Quickly, he added, in a drawling tone, "The Order stands no chance against us. They're fighting for a lost cause already."

Blaise was satisfied with the answer. "The last battle definitely gained more power to the Death Eaters. I was there, you know. Bloody battle, that was."

"Kill anyone?" asked Draco, pretending to be interested.

"Not sure, really." said Blaise, frowning as if trying to remember. "I did injure this one wizard pretty badly…" He smirked.

Draco nodded. The sun was nearly halfway down the lake..

"Have you ever killed anyone?" asked Blaise like it was a question to be asked in small talk.

"No," said Draco curtly.

"Why not?"

"I was never ordered to do the killings. I've only tortured the prisoners…" said Draco, trailing off. He hated talking about the torturing. The screams were the most horrific sounds to hear, and the sight was unbearable at times. However, these feelings were all inside of Draco. None of these feelings were ever shown on the outside. He was cold and tortured with no mercy.

"Do you ever feel _bad_?" drawled Blaise. Draco could see that Blaise was anticipating an answer.

"No." he replied, coldly.

He was sure that Blaise was interrogating him under someone's orders. That or he was suspicious of Draco. What Blaise said next confirmed his suspicions of interrogation—

"Why were you in Dumbledore's office yesterday?" asked Blaise.

"Why must you know everything that goes on in my life?" retaliated Draco. "I'm sorry, but last time I checked, I was straight and single."

"I'm not the only one wondering why you're always there."

Draco stiffened slightly and said, "He wanted to see me about some Head Boy duties…"

"How come the Mudblood wasn't there with you? She's Head Girl, is she not?" asked Blaise.

Draco quickly came up with a clever come back, "Use your head, Zabini. Obviously, I've been doing something wrong, which is why he called me in."

"What were you doing wrong?"

"What's the point, Zabini?" snapped Draco, furiously. "What do you want to know?"

Blaise acted innocent. "What? I'm just asking--"

"You're asking a bit too much," interrupted Draco.

The sun was barely visible. However, the shades of orange and red still lingered in the sky. The stars, one by one, came to life in the dusk. Draco glared at Blaise, as the sun slowly disappeared behind the lake.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" asked Blaise, staring at him incredulously.

Draco scoffed and said, "Don't act stupid. You've decided to interrogate me single-handedly; or did someone order you?"

Blaise did not answer right away. However, his expression changed smugly, and he said in a calm tone, "I want the truth."

"And I've told you the truth."

"Have you?" said Blaise.

"I don't know; why don't you give me some Veritaserum, and we'll find out." said Draco coolly, matching Blaise's tone.

Blaise opened and closed his mouth. He smiled and reached into his pocket. The same cigarette was pulled out from his pocket, and he handed it to Draco. Draco narrowed his eyes at it and made no attempt to take it away from Blaise.

"I'm not going to take it, Zabini," sneered Draco, "Why would I willingly put myself under Veritaserum?"

"_Is it_ filled with Veritaserum?" retorted Blaise.

"I have every reason to believe it is."

A stretch of silence came over them again. Blaise cleared his throat and said quietly, "If you are telling the truth, you would have no problem taking the cigarette with Veritaserum. You aren't going to take the cigarette because you're hiding something."

"Okay, you keep believing that." said Draco. "I, on the other hand, have better things to worry about."

Blaise did not reply. Draco continued, "And why would I betray the Dark Lord? My own father is one of the head Death Eaters. Honestly, Zabini, use your fucking head."

Blaise opened his mouth to retort, but a high pitched voice interrupted him. It was Pansy. She was waving excitedly to Blaise and Draco, and Crabbe and Goyle were trailing behind. Draco rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly at the thought of dealing with more idiots. They gathered around and began making small talk as usual. Pansy wrapped her arm around Blaise's.

"Dinner is about to be served," said Crabbe, slowly.

"What are you two doing out here?" asked Pansy, ignoring Crabbe's comment and resting her head on Blaise's shoulder.

Blaise glared at Draco for a second. However, he changed his expression and said, "We're having a nice chat about Quidditch and the weather."

"Here come Weasley and Loony…" said Goyle, laughing stupidly.

Pansy turned her head and smiled slyly. Ginny Weasly and Luna Lovegood were chatting and walking towards the lake, oblivious of the crowd of Slytherins already there.

"This will be fun…" purred Pansy in a rather evil way.

"Hey Weasley! Nice secondhand robe you got there! Is being tattered the new style for Muggles?" called Pansy tauntingly.

Draco rolled his eyes and began, "Pansy, please grow-- "

However, before Draco could even finish reprimanding, Pansy and the others started walking toward them. Draco slowly followed, a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth. If they were going to be hexed, Draco wanted to witness it. He still remembered the Bat Bogey Hex the stupid Weasley had put on in him in fifth year…

Ginny glared at them, but she made no effort to retort back. Instead, she started walking faster, away from them. Luna was following her, in an almost dreamlike state.

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you, Weasley," said Pansy, trailing along.

"Is your brother dead yet?" drawled Blaise, smirking.

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks; so did the Slytherins and Luna. Draco was taken aback by Blaise's comment about the Weasley. Ginny slowly turned around; her whole body was trembling with anger. Luna, seeing this, immediately grabbed her arm and shook her head warningly. Ginny jerked her arm away from her and did not heed her warning.

"What did you say?" she said in a low and dangerous voice.

"He asked if your brother was dead yet." supplied Crabbe stupidly.

Before another breath was even uttered, the Weasley quickly pulled out her wand and pointed it at Blaise.

Draco smirked at the picture of Blaise with a bunch of bats on his face. However, he doubted the Weasley was going to perform that hex. She looked dangerous and ready to kill. He could see tears sparkling in her eyes, along with the hatred she felt for all Death Eaters. Blaise smirked but did not move.

"Go ahead and hex him, Weasley," encouraged Draco, hoping to see Blaise physically injured.

"And I'll hex you afterwards, Malfoy." retorted the redhead fiercely.

"We'll see who ends up in the hospital wing..." sneered Draco.

Quickly, Blaise pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ginny. Luna had her wand out, too.

"If you dare make one move, Zabini, I will curse you with one of the foulest hexes!" said Luna angrily. Draco was surprised. Upon first impression, he thought Luna was rather--well, how could he say it?--"out of it." She was always absorbed in some other dream world. This was the first time that Luna acted like she was living in reality.

Ginny did not back down much to Draco's surprise. She held the same composure; her grip on the wand was firm and steady. Draco had no notion of getting his wand out; he found it rather pointless. If he was caught with his wand out, his position as Head Boy would certainly be taken away. As much as Draco told himself that the Head Boy position was not a big deal, he did not want his badge to be taken away over something this trivial.

"Let it go, Weasley." said Draco.

"_Shut up_, Malfoy." hissed Ginny, her eyes glaring at him with the same hatred she held for Zabini.

Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle backed away and started to watch with great interest from a distance.

"You know, I could have killed your brother…" said Blaise in a low tone that was barely audible. However, all of them heard it, including Draco. Again, he was very taken aback by this. Draco stared in disbelief. He knew Blaise was in the battle; he had just informed him. However, he had no idea that he was the one that injured Charlie Weasley to his state.

"You did it?" burst out Draco before he could control himself.

However, before Blaise had time to answer, Ginny had tackled him to the floor. Without giving much thought, Draco dived in and pulled Ginny away from Blaise, before he had a chance to hurt her.

"You bastard!" she screamed with a strangled sob. She tried to wrench herself away from Draco's grasp, but it proved useless. Draco had a firm grip around her waist. If she attacked Blaise, he would attack right back.

"We're done here."said Draco, firmly. "This has gone too far…I can't let this happen—as---as Head Boy." He finished lamely.

"Since when have you complied with the rules?" snarled Blaise furiously, as he got up from the ground. He pointed at Ginny accusingly. "That bloody Weasley just attacked me!"

"Just leave, Zabini," said Draco, still not letting go of Ginny, who was sobbing quietly and weakly clinging on to Draco's arm to stand up. Luna was standing behind him, in a speechless state of shock. She was looking wide-eyed at Draco in a sort of odd way that made him feel rather uncomfortable.

Pansy was eyeing Ginny with jealousy and said, "And what are you going to do with the Weasley?"

"That," snapped Draco, "is none of your business. All of you--leave before I report this to Snape."

"He wouldn't care." argued Blaise. "You can't do anything about it, Malfoy."

"Watch me." said Draco threateningly.

Blaise paused and said incredulously, "Why are you even defending a Weasley and this lunatic?"

"I'm _not_ defending them."said Draco defiantly. Draco added, smirking, "I just didn't want to see you get beat up by a girl."

Luna giggled quietly at this, but Ginny was still in Draco's grasp, making sniffing sounds. Her face was tear stained, and she looked slightly dazed. Blaise glared at Draco and beckoned Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle to follow him. Draco watched them walk up the hill and into the castle doors of Hogwarts. Draco let out a quiet sigh of relief that was inaudible.

_It was out of impulse when I pulled the Weasley away from Blaise. I was shocked at the fact that Blaise was the one that made the other Weasley a wreck. The young Weasley looked like she was on the verge of breakdown at the mention of her brother's name. I didn't want to pull her away; but if she was hurt, Dumbledore would have held me responsible. Working for the Order has made me soft—I can't believe I just helped a Weasley and her stupid little friend, who's obviously insane—why the hell is she still staring at me?_


	5. Not Alone

_**Misconception**_

Disclaimer: Own Harry Potter? I think not.

Author's Note: Sorry for the **long wait and short chapter**.( feels ashamed) But don't worry, next chapter will be longer and faster update. This is kind of a chapter that reveals some of Draco's feelings about his work, once again.

**Chapter 5: Not Alone**

Draco released Ginny from his firm grasp, and she angrily stepped away from him. Her face was still tear-stained and a sudden sense of weariness came over her. She stared out at the lake, which was shimmering with the sparkles illuminated by the pale reflection of the moonlight. The sky turned into a navy blue color and dozens of stars sparkled. A soft breeze blew by them, and Draco saw Ginny shiver and pull her robes closer. Luna made no attempt to comfort or talk to her. On the contrary, she continued staring at Draco with great interest.

"Why did you do it?" asked Luna interestedly.

"Well, we wouldn't want our little Gryffindor prefect to end up in the hospital wing, now, would we?" sneered Draco, casting a mocking glance at Ginny.

"Since when did you _ever_ care?" inquired Luna, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"I _don't_ care," said Draco firmly.

"But—"

Ginny turned around and faced them. She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her robe and pulled the loose strands of her auburn her behind her ear. For a mere second, Ginny's eyes met the emotionless eyes of Draco, but the second was gone in an instant. Draco pretended not to notice it. She glared at Draco, before storming off toward the castle. Luna began going after her, but Draco grasped her arm to keep her from going.

"She'd want to be alone…" said Draco wisely.

Luna frowned and jerked her arm away from his grasp. She started going after her again, but Ginny turned around. Tears were streaming down her face again.

"I need to be alone right now…" she choked out, before breaking into a run.

Luna watched her go sadly. She sighed and faced the lake again. Draco was doing the same with a small smirk creeping onto his lips.

"Told you," said Draco shortly.

"Shut up, Malfoy." said Luna irritably. She turned from the lake and glared at Draco. Draco looked at her with a smug expression.

"You have no idea what she's been through. Her whole family is in the Order except for her and Ron." said Luna.

Draco shook his head. He put his hands in his pocket, and he clenched his fist around his last cigarette pack. Luna continued looking at him as if he were some sort of disease. Draco did not have to know how to read minds to know exactly what Luna was thinking. He sighed inaudibly and took out the pack. Luna eyed it with a scowl.

"No idea, Lovegood?" said Draco with an incredulous tone. He took out a cigarette and lit it with the end of his wand. He blew it out a puff of smoke to the dark night.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Luna with no feeling. "That's right, your whole family are Death Eaters. Yes, that must be horrible." she added scathingly.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her and said, in low and dangerous tone, "You don't know anything about me, Lovegood, so don't even start."

"I don't need to know anything more about you," said Luna coolly.

"Hey, at least I'm not a daughter of a lunatic." retorted Draco angrily. "What's that trash he makes? _The Quibbler_, is it?"

"Better than being a Death Eater."

"Please tell me something I don't know," said Draco. "Honestly, everyone thinks I'm a Death Eater, but they never really know for sure do they?"

"Well, aren't you?" asked Luna.

"Even if I'm not now, I'm bound to be---everyone, especially your friends, expects me to be," answered Draco. "Might as well live up to their expectations, right?"

Luna paused, apparently at a loss for words. Draco shrugged and looked back out at the lake. He had no idea why he was still standing with her; she was a Ravenclaw and a friend of Potter's. He would usually walk away or throw more than one insult at her. However, there was a different atmosphere and he was a different person.

Draco took another drag from the cigarette. Luna looked at him uneasily and opened her mouth to say something; at last minute, she closed it again. Draco scoffed and exhaled the smoke.

"You know…you shouldn't smoke." said Luna, tentatively.

"So I've heard." snapped Draco. "From your stupid Weasley friend."

"Well, what she didn't tell you that there are tiny flaming mites inside each cigarette that eventually eat out your lungs."

Draco stared at Luna like she was off her rocker, which she clearly was. It was Draco's turn to be at a loss for words. He was not sure whether to take her seriously or not. He heard that she was known for coming up with ludicrous theories. Still staring at her, Draco was also unsure whether he should laugh or not. Luna smiled back and said, "It was an article in the Quibbler."

He shook his head and stared out at the dark lake again. Something caught his eyes and he followed it. It was a thestral, flying gracefully over the horizon of the lake. It flew in a small circle around the moon and dived up and down in the air. Soon more thestrals joined in, as if they were paying homage to the full moon.

"They're fascinating, aren't they?" said Luna dreamily.

"You see them too?" asked Draco.

"Yes, my mother died." she said in the same dreamlike state. "What about you?"

Draco did not answer. He threw his cigarette in the lake and watched the thestrals fly around gracefully. Guilt rushed to his head and filled every corner of his thoughts. The agonizing screams echoed in his mind, and he closed his eyes in hopes to block them out. He watched too many of them die—Muggles and wizards alike. They all died before his eyes, but he was indifferent at the time.

"It's okay, Malfoy." said Luna, softly. "You don't have to tell me."

Draco laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. "You already know what's on my mind, Lovegood."

There was a slight pause; Luna gazed dreamily at the thestrals, who were now flying back to the dark forest.

"Just so you know, Malfoy," said Luna in the same soft voice, "You aren't alone in this war. Whatever your decisions may be…I'm sure there is or there will be one person who will always be there for you."

Draco rolled his eyes and said gruffly, "Whatever."

Luna sighed and said, "Well, I suppose I should get back…"

"I suppose you should," said Draco dryly.

She gave him a smile and waltzed back to the castle.

Draco watched her go until she was out of sight. He glanced back at the lake, feeling a small tingling burn in his right forearm.. However, Draco barely noticed it because he was getting used to the burns.

With his hands in his pocket, he stared out at the quiet lake. The burn began to increase in pain, as time wore on into the hours of the night. However, he was numb to it. His mind wandered to the same questions---would he ever get his true identity back?—will he die a Death Eater?—why did he ever join the Order?

He felt a bit of despair well up inside him; although the Order had just gained a bit of power, the Death Eaters were still stronger; they had most of the giants and all of the dementors; they had more people in their army…they had the weapon.

Even though Draco was considered one of the Death Eaters within the inner circle, he still had no idea what the weapon was. The Order had attempted to destroy it last year, but they failed. However, Draco knew what it would do to the Order and to the rest of the wizarding world…Destruction would be inevitable, and Voldemort would rule. Unless the prophecy was fulfilled by--

_Potter,_ thought Draco, bitterly.

He felt his blood boil at the very thought of Potter. The burn of the Dark Mark grew steadily, along with his frustration. Almost seven years of rivalry and hate. What Draco hated most about Potter was that he got away with everything because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. Even Dumbledore favored Potter out of all the other students, and Dumbledore was the only person Draco could trust…the only one that held his true identity.

Potter was getting all the glory, and Draco was getting nothing but a small praise from Dumbledore now and then. _He_ was the one that was working hard; _he_ was the one that was helping the Order; _he was the one risking his life_. Not Potter; no, the Order made sure that Potter would never be harmed until it was time for the prophecy to be fulfilled…

He sensed someone behind him.

Quickly, Draco swiveled around, whipping out his wand as an instinct. The person in the shadows tensed a little at the point of his wand. From the outline of the silhouette, Draco could see it was a girl. There was a slight pause, as Draco quickly surveyed her and smirked.

"Nice to see you again, Weasley."


	6. The Beginning

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Harry Potter, I think I'd be doing better things…like…shopping instead of writing fanfics.

**Author's Note**: Yeah, well. Here you go. Quick update, semi-long chapter. Next one will be better, I promise. This has a fair amount of D/G interaction. Somewhat clichéd, but oh well. Enjoy. Or not. Sorry about grammatical mistakes or any other thing you don't like about my writing. (rambles on and on)

**Chapter 6: The Beginning**

Draco lowered his wand and pocketed it in his robes. The signature smirk on his face remained, as the tense young Weasley stepped out of the shadow. Her eyes were not filled with the tears he saw before, and her face was not welted with stains of sorrow. She looked composed, and a bit angry.

"What was that about?" inquired Ginny, crossing her arms.

Draco paused and studied her carefully again. Her robes were hand-me-downs, and they looked tattered. Despite her clothes, she did not look half as bad. Draco did not think she was _pretty_, for that would be just wrong. However, Draco knew she wasn't as bad as her brothers were, from the two encounters they had before. But she was a Weasley, and he was a Malfoy. They were intended to hate each other and everything about her was supposed to be wrong.

"I see you're done drowning in your tears," mocked Draco softly.

Ginny flushed and said nothing. Draco felt a slight burn from his forearm, but he ignored it.

"So what do you want, Weasley?" said Draco.

"I came here to thank you, if you must know." said Ginny heatedly. She turned a deeper shade of red, either from embarrassment or anger.

He smirked again, which made her face turn into the shade of her hair. Draco chuckled quietly and said in a mock of disbelief, "Thank me? What _ever_ for?"

"I acted rashly," explained Ginny.

"You did." commented Draco.

"Blaise could have killed me if he really wanted to…"

"He could have."

"I mean, look what he did to Charlie…"

"Indeed."

Ginny glowered at him and sighed. A cold breeze blew past them. It played with several strands of Ginny's hair before slowly dying away. An awkward silence settled between them; Draco noticed that the silence with Luna was quite comfortable, even though he was annoyed by her as well. Ginny bit her lip, apparently noticing the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Are you done?" said Draco tonelessly.

Ginny looked at Draco, and he looked back with no emotion. She continued staring sadly at him, as if trying to find a flicker of understanding. However, Draco gave her nothing; indeed, he did understand what she was going through, but it was hard to say whether or not he pitied her. The mere existence of the Weasleys troubled him, annoyed him. Perhaps it was just too much time with his father, whom he still looked up to despite his evil ways.

She broke away from his gaze and muttered, "It was stupid to come here."

Ginny turned to leave, but Draco grabbed her wrist. An expression of bewilderment came upon her face.

"You're welcome," he said, "Just don't do anything stupid like that again."

He let go of her wrist, but she remained rooted to the spot. Her shocked expression stayed on her face, and she opened then closed her mouth. Hesitantly, she smiled, which unknowingly made Draco feel a bit uneasy.

Silence came over them again. Neither of them seemed to know what to say to each other. Draco kept wondering if she was going to go or not; why was she still standing there? She began staring at the lake, like he did before. There was some sort of indescribable beauty of the serene lake as the moon shined over it. It was calming to Draco, and it served as a nice place to think.

Ginny sighed, which snapped Draco out of his thoughts.

"Have you been standing here since the fight?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah," he answered in a monotone voice.

Ginny gave an expression of wide-eyed amazement.

"What have you been doing all this time?" she asked.

"Must you know, Weasley?" asked Draco irritably. "Besides, isn't it past your curfew hour?"

"I'm a Prefect," snapped Ginny.

"Right." muttered Draco. "Well, then…go watch the halls, Weasley."

"Just because you're Head Boy doesn't mean you can order me around," said Ginny angrily.

"Of course it does," he drawled with a smirk. "My duty is to order around Prefects," he added with a slight sneer, "When you become Head Girl, you'll enjoy it too, Weasley."

"I doubt that will ever happen." muttered Ginny, looking down at the ground.

"What?" said Draco "Ordering Prefects around?"

"No, becoming Head Girl." explained Ginny.

Draco raised an eyebrow and said, "Honestly, Weasley, are you always this pessimistic? I understand you come from a worthless family and all--"

"It's called modesty, you should try it sometime," said Ginny, rolling her eyes.

"No, I'd rather be the arrogant bastard everyone hates," said Draco, "It suits me better."

The somewhat civilized conversation they held made Draco feel a bit out of his character. However, he felt that he could not be cynical towards this Weasley for reasons that were unknown to him. Perhaps it's because, deep down, he felt bad for Charlie Weasley, and he blamed himself for not providing information on the attack to the Order. But was it his fault? He was at school and there was no way he could have gone to a Death Eater meeting. Draco closed his eyes and tried to suppress his thoughts; he had too much on his mind.

Guilt, pain, doubt, stress—all this could make someone explode. Even he didn't know how he handled all these emotions at once. He almost forgot that Ginny was still standing there, who was staring at him in great puzzlement. It was somewhat normal for him to get lost in his thoughts and shunning away what was really going on…

"Malfoy?"

He was immediately shot back to reality and muttered, "Sorry, just thinking about the upcoming N.E.W.Ts."

"I would believe that if you were Hermione," said Ginny calmly.

"Granger?"

"No, the other one," said Ginny sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be on patrolling duty right now?" said Draco, giving her a look of annoyance.

"Aren't _you_?" retorted Ginny. "You've missed two, since the last meeting."

"What meeting?"

Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. "I honestly don't know why Dumbledore appointed you Head Boy."

"Because I'm better than your brother." said Draco.

"You wish." said Ginny, chuckling rather harshly.

"I don't need to because it's already reality, Weasley," he said. "I'm Head Boy, I'm rich, I don't associate myself with Mudbloods, I don't have red hair—."

Ginny glowered at him, and he returned with a glance of indifference. It was quite hard to keep civilized conversations with a family you've been sworn to hate.

"You're such an arrogant prick," said Ginny.

"Indeed, I am," replied Draco with a slight smirk. "And you are an annoyingly scrawny, red-headed Weasley."

She glared at him and made no attempt to reply. Ginny was much too angry to say anything, and she complied with a silent anger. He shrugged and reached in his pocket for another cigarette. It was merely out of habit now; usually, it was out of stress. Ginny eyed it with disgust, and Draco ignored her by lighting it up blatantly. She huffed in annoyance.

"No one is asking you to stay, Weasley," Draco pointed out.

"You know, you really shouldn't smoke," she said in voice that reminded Draco of Granger.

"Right, because tiny mites will melt my lungs." said Draco sarcstically.

"What?"

Draco wondered how many times people were going to tell him that. It was almost too bad that he didn't care about his health or his lungs, for that matter. Smoking was the only thing that calmed him down. The only flaw about it was that it gave symptoms of insomnia, which Draco was already used to. He shrugged indifferently, which made Ginny fume even more.

"Since when did you start, anyway?" asked Ginny impatiently.

"Since when did you care?" he snapped.

Ginny bit her lip and echoed what he said before, scathingly, "I _don't _care."

"Good," he replied curtly.

Ginny scrunched up her nose at the smell. She took the cigarette from his hand and flicked it into the lake. Draco, who had been unsuspecting of the action, stared in shock. Instead of being angry, he was slightly amused at her impulsive action and how much she really_ did_ care.

"I believe you've just acted rashly again," he drawled with an amused smirk. "How do you know I won't attack you like Blaise?"

"Over a cigarette?" she said, unconvinced.

"I believe Blaise would be crazy enough to do something like that," said Draco with a scornful tone. "Besides," he added scathingly, mocking what Ginny had said, "Look what he did to Charlie…"

Ginny was taken aback by what he had said. It made her absolutely furious, no doubt, and it made Draco feel a bit better. He knew it was an awful thing to say, but she was getting on his nerves. She looked like she would very much like to curse him, and she was almost trembling in anger.

"Don't you _dare_ bring Charlie into this…" warned Ginny angrily.

"What are you going to do," said Draco carelessly, "Cry?"

She was about to slap him, but Draco caught her wrist just in time. It proved that the Death Eaters did teach you one thing: quick reflexes. However, that was the least of Draco's concerns at the moment. He could not figure out how one person could be so god damn temperamental and annoying at the same time.

"Quite the moody one, aren't we?" said Draco mockingly. Ginny tried to get out of his firm grasp, but he had no notion of letting her go.

"You're just like Blaise." she hissed.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm nothing like him."

"You enjoy gloating about the people you've hurt, and you're a Death—."she stopped, when she saw the look on Draco's face. Ginny averted her eyes away from his in an uncomfortable state.

"Go on," encouraged Draco, narrowing his eyes. "Why don't you say it? You and everyone else; got me all figured out, haven't you?"

She did not answer him right away.

Ginny shook her head and said, "I haven't got you figured out, and I don't plan on it."

Draco felt a slight déjà vu coming along. He would have found this a bit amusing if it weren't for the current situation. It was quite angering, and Draco didn't even know why.

"Really?"

"You're so childish." said Ginny, finally wrenching herself away from Draco's grasp.

"How so?" inquired Draco.

"By thinking you're the only person in the world that's dealing with this or that's inflicted by some sort of pain," she said, glaring angrily at him.

Draco had not been expecting her to say something like that, so it made him feel taken aback. What did the Weasley know?

"What the hell are you talking about, Weasley?" said Draco incredulously.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth. "It's the only reason you stood out here, brooding and wasting hours of your life away."

"Why are you even here, Weasley?" said Draco, ignoring her comment. "Seriously, I'm not making you stay. I haven't got you under the Imperius Curse--."

"Don't change the subject." interjected Ginny. "You think this war has only affected you? Well, I have news for you: it's affecting everyone, even your stupid Death Eater friends."

"Stop trying to be like your friend, Lovegood, by making a petty attempt to figure out what I'm going through."said Draco moodily.

"Stop trying to be so misunderstood," snapped Ginny. "and wallowing up in self-pity, thinking no one in the world can ever save you. Why don't you try saving yourself? You're more like Harry than you know!"

"Don't compare me him!" said Draco angrily.

"Why not?" retorted Ginny. "Both of you are so alike. _Oh no, only I can save the wizarding world, but no one can save me._ He doesn't even take into account how many people love him, how many people would_ die_ for him!"

"Weasley, I am in no mood to listen to your love life." Draco said, rolling his eyes.

For a moment, they both glared at each other. Draco had never been this annoyed by a Weasley. He wasn't even sure what annoyed him more: the fact that she was a Weasley or that she spoke the truth. Never in his life did he think that he would be put at wrong by a Weasley, and it tugged at his nerve.

"You're not worth my breath, Weasley."he said finally. He turned from her and started walking toward the castle. _The _nerve_ of that Weasley!_

"Because I'm right?" she called after his retreating back.

He almost stopped in his tracks out of infuriation, but he forced himself to keep walking. Draco would have dearly loved to turn around and insult her one last time, but he realized that she did not take insults to heart—unless they were about her family in war. Firmly, he told himself that she really wasn't worth his time.

By the time he reached his room, he slowly forgot about all that happened—especially what Weasley had said. His mind began to shut down, giving in to the sudden drowsiness he was feeling. Collapsing on the bed, he instantly fell to sleep.

_The clouds were graying overhead. There was a thick fog all over, and Draco found himself walking along a clear path. However, when he squinted his eyes to look at the side, he saw nothing but a white fog. He continued walking, and he started to see dark figures ahead. He rushed up to them and saw that they were Death Eaters. _

_They were in the middle of the path; when they saw Draco, they stepped to the side and let him walk through, slightly bowing their heads. He didn't stop, but he kept walking. Then he came to a fork in the road, and he stopped. _

_He looked down each path as far as his eyes would let him. Nothing. He sighed angrily._

_Suddenly, a figure appeared next to him and he jumped slightly. Frowning, he looked at him and saw that it was another Death Eater. He was about the same height as Draco—other than that, Draco could not see anything else. The Death Eater was masked. _

_"Who are you?" asked Draco. _

_The man did not reply. Instead, he laughed. The laugh brought chills to Draco, but he held his composure. _

_"Who are you?" asked Draco again. _

_Again, the Death Eater did not reply. He pointed his wand to the clouds and shouted, "_Morsmordre_!"_

_Draco looked up at the sky, expecting to see the Dark Mark. Much to his surprise, it wasn't the Dark Mark—it was something else. There was a snake, but there was no skull. The snake seemed to be around a dagger…or was it a sword? It was also on fire. Confused, Draco looked at the Death Eater again, who began laughing in madness again. _

_"What—" Draco began. _

_The Death Eater did not answer. He pointed his wand at Draco chest, and put down his hood, revealing his face. Draco recognized his face, but it couldn't be---he wouldn't…_

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

Draco awoke with a start. For a split second, he was beginning to believe that the dream was real. Breathing heavily, he looked around and felt relieved to find that he was still in his room. Draco calmed himself down and wiped the sweat from his brow. He pressed his hands on his eyes and tried to remember what the dream had been about. He remember seeing someone he knew in that dream, but he couldn't remember the face.

He searched his mind, but it proved to be useless. The only thing he could remember was the strange symbol in the sky. It was not a Dark Mark, but he remembered someone saying the incantation for it….

It was a snake around a dagger with fire all around. Draco had never seen anything like it, and it made no sense to him. Why did it appear in his dream? Did it mean something?

Draco shook his head; he was being stupid. Dreams were dreams, and they didn't mean anything. He didn't like the idea of becoming philosophical or thinking along the lines of Divination. Everyone knew that Trelawney was a mad woman, and that centaur wasn't any better; Draco did not think that Uranus should be shining brightly anyway…

He looked at his clock, which read five o'clock. Sighing, he got out of his comfortable bed and got dressed. Pulling his book bag over his shoulder, he went out to the quiet Slytherin common room. No one was up, and breakfast was probably still being cooked. After much contemplation, he finally decided where he would go to, as stupid as it probably was.

The library was quiet, as Draco expected it to be. Madam Pince was nowhere to be seen, so Draco did not have to worry about being too early in the library or something. He looked at the many rows of shelves and wondered where to start. Where would he find a book about interpreting dreams anyway?

Draco decided to go to his usual spot in the library, which was a really far back row, where no one ever looked. He walked to the far back and came to his table. Much to his surpise, it was already occupied.

"Are you following me?" said Ginny Weasley, peering over her book.

Draco rolled his eyes and said coldly, "Don't flatter yourself, Weasley."

She looked at her watch and said, "You do realize it's five in the morning?"

"Yeah, so?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

Ginny shrugged and went back to her book. Draco tilted his head slighted and read the cover, _Quidditch Through the Ages. _Furrowing his brows, he set down his bag on the table, causing Ginny to jump slightly. He smirked when she looked up to see what it was, and she glared at him moodily.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked sharply.

"A book," he answered curtly.

"What book?" she asked curiously.

"Mind your own business and keep reading," he snapped. "Maybe they'll have something in there about making you a better chaser."

Ginny slammed the book shut and set it loudly on the table. Glowering, she stood up and said defensively, "I am a good chaser, better than any of the Slytherins!"

"Really?" he said tonelessly.

"I don't recall seeing you get the snitch before Harry!" said Ginny.

"I'm a better seeker than you." said Draco, shrugging indifferently. "That's all that matters."

"I'd like to see you prove that," she said.

There was a pause and what she said slowly registered into Draco's mind. He looked at her coldly and said, "I don't take challenges from Weasleys."

"Are you afraid you won't win?" mocked Ginny.

"I'm too old to be nettled by stupid comments like that, Weasley." said Draco, rolling his eyes.

"So you are afraid you won't win." she said with a final tone.

"Stop acting like a child."

"Look who's talking."

Draco did not answer and walked away to find the book he was looking for. After searching for half an hour, Draco decided that he was being thick. The dream probably meant nothing, and the symbol meant nothing either. No matter how many times he told himself that, a nagging voice at the back of his wanted to find out.

He went back to the table and found it empty with the exception of his book bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he walked out of the back shelves and out of the library. The corridor was empty, and from a distance, he could hear the chattering in the Great Hall. Deciding to forget about the dream, he went to the Great Hall.

Crabbe and Goyle were already there, stuffing their faces. When Draco approached the table, they both greeted him, and he muttered a greeting. Later, Blaise and Pansy came in, arms linked together. Pansy tried to catch Draco's eye. Somehow, this was supposed to make him jealous. Draco rolled his eyes and got up, right when Blaise and Pansy sat down. The company of Crabbe and Goyle, he could stand; with those two, however….

Blaise followed him out, much to Draco's annoyance. He decided that it must be National Annoy-Draco-Malfoy-Week. Besides, Blaise was probably going to bring up what happened yesterday…

"What do you want, Zabini?" he said, turning to face him.

"Quidditch season starts in a month," said Blaise with a glare.

"And?" said Draco, wondering where this was going.

Blaise looked at him as if the answer should be rather obvious. It wasn't obvious. For a minute, Draco thought Blaise wanted him to plot something in the Quidditch stadium that would result in the ultimate demise of Hogwarts—which wouldn't be a bad idea if he was a full time Death Eater…His mind wandered to this thought…

"You're captain." said Blaise loudly, which snapped Draco away from his thoughts.

Draco had forgotten about that in his Hogwarts letter, stating that he was captain of the Quidditch team.

_Damn it. _

"Right," muttered Draco. "I'll book the field for Slytherin today, then."

"Are you sure Potter hasn't already booked it for Gryffindor?" said Blaise.

Draco ignored him and walked away. He did not want to play Quidditch. As much as he liked the sport, he was in no mood to play Quidditch. With everything on his mind, he wouldn't play well anyway. And he had to admit, he was never going to catch the snitch before Potter…

Luckily, Snape informed him that the field wasn't booked for Gryffindor, and he got his permission to use it at four in the afternoon. Draco informed the rest of the team to meet at four, and the training would begin.

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Charlie Weasley got out of the hospital, completely cured. His injuries were all gone, and there was no harm that would last him a lifetime. Draco noticed that after this news was given out, the Weasleys were a lot more cheerful, especially Ginny. Ginny annoyed Draco because they always managed to bump into each other. She would always glare at him, and he would look back with indifference. Occasionally there were the usual exchange of insults that no one took notice of because of the usual tension between houses around Quidditch season.

Indeed, House rivalry was starting to run high because of Quidditch. The first game of the year, which took place in October, was between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Gryffindor had won the game, of course. The next game, which took place in November, was between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. It was a tight game, and it took place for an hour and a half. Fortunately, Draco caught the snitch just in time for a win.

Now, it was nearing December and their next game would not be until January. Draco was relieved that he would not have to train for now because he was getting a bit uneasy that Christmas was drawing so near. He would have to go back home and meet all the Death Eaters again.

Within the two months, things were getting back to normal. He had stopped smoking. But now, with the spying that would take place in just a few weeks, he became more irritable and stressed out as before.

He started having the same dream again…with the same symbol…same person. Who was that person? The Death Eater was so familiar to Draco, but once he woke up, the face disappeared in his mind. There were times when Draco was tempted to go to Trelawney and ask if she had a book of dream interpretation. However, the stronger side of his voice would tell him how stupid he was being…

To relieve stress (because he was out of cigarettes), Draco began flying at night. Usually, he would let the snitch out and he would take his time in finding in. In a way, he felt quite clever that he was doing something productive.

_I don't always brood. _he thought, bitterly remembering what Ginny had said two months before.

Ginny Weasley annoyed him. A lot. He didn't even know why, but she did. He decided that he didn't need a reason to be annoyed with her because she's a Weasley. All Weasleys are annoying. Therefore, she was annoying.

No, it didn't make sense. But the things he thought about when he was flying at night usually didn't make sense because half of his mind was concentrating on the snitch…


	7. The Cost of Loyalty

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **It's too bad that I don't own Harry Potter, or I'd be filthy rich. It'd make me happy.

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay. Sorry for any mistakes; I don't really like betas because I don't like someone know before-hand what's going to happen, which is selfish of me. **Reviews are the nicest things ever. Please do so.**

**Chapter 7: The Cost of Loyalty**

Draco checked his watch: it was one o'clock in the morning. He felt the snitch struggling in his hand, as his broom slowly descended to the ground of the Quidditch pitch. After dismounting his broom, he put the golden snitch back inside the trunk; with the trunk levitating behind him, he slowly walked to the broom shed.

The cold December wind blew against him, and he felt a chill run through his bones. Besides the soft footsteps on the grass, the night was completely silent. From a distance, Draco could hear a very soft rustling of trees in the forest; he found the serene night somewhat calming.

It had been months since the last time he slept well; people noticed dark shadows under his eyes, which did not suit his pale skin at all. Quidditch didn't seem to help him get his mind off things anymore, but it was good practice nonetheless. He quitted smoking weeks ago, but the insomnia kept running high in his mind; every now and then, he'd have a strong urge for cigarettes but thought the better of it. The only person that possessed cigarettes in Hogwarts was Blaise, and he was never in a mood to ask Zabini a favor.

Draco unlocked the broom shed and the trunk levitated inside. It fell to the floor with a soft thud, and Draco locked the door. With a sigh, he turned around and started walking toward the castle. Overhead, he saw dark gray clouds devouring the night and its stars. Seemingly, the temperature began to drop, which made Draco quicken his footsteps.

Finally, he reached the warmth of the castle. The doors shut with a slight creak; otherwise, the entrance hall was silent as well. He walked down the corridor, keeping in mind that he was going to the Slytherin dungeons. However, he did not feel like it and absentmindedly wandered somewhere else.

His thoughts wandered on to the war and the letter he had just received, technically, yesterday morning. Lucius Malfoy, his father and high ranked Death Eater, had written to him about coming home for Christmas. The letter was vague and brief, but Draco knew it held many secrets. His hand wandered to his robe pocket, where the letter still remained. He had not bothered to really read it yet, but perhaps he should now.

Stopping, Draco took out the letter and his wand. He tapped the parchment and muttered, " _Apercium_"

Instantly, the words were replaced with new words:

_The Order is on the rise again; we need more information about what the Order is planning next. I would not expect you to get any information from Hogwarts; you are only there to finish your education. Otherwise, I would not have let you go back to school this term. However, I was quite disappointed to find that Zabini's son has gotten more information; I was also shocked to hear that some of it was concerning you. _

_Fortunately, the Dark Lord has trust in you and has become oblivious to Zabini's claims. I should also hope that these claims are not true. The consequences would be fatal. _

_On the 24th of December, your mother has planned a ball. Of course, it is only for a disguise as a gathering of all the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's army. Since you are placed in a top rank, you are to be present at this formal occasion. The Dark Lord has especially requested you to be there; this is a great honor, Draco. _

_After the meeting, the Order should be expecting an attack some time soon. This war is in our hands. Never forget that. Although the Order is rising in its power, the Dark Lord's power is still greater. In time, this war will be won._

_-Lucius_

Draco crumpled the parchment angrily; that god damn Blaise. He could not believe that nerve of him actually reporting it to the Death Eaters. Surely, he would have to pay for this. However, another voice told him not to act rashly; there will be a time when revenge can take place. Letting out a breath, he tried to calm down.

"Midnight stroll, young Malfoy?"

Dumbledore stood beside him with a warm smile. Draco put the crumpled parchment in his pocket and muttered, "Sorry."

"No need to be sorry," said Dumbledore, "I understand that sleep does not come easy for you these days."

Draco nodded. Dumbledore beckoned him and said, "Come to my office." Draco obeyed and followed Dumbledore to his office. When they arrived, Draco took his regular seat on the wooden chair, and Dumbledore took his on the comfortable armchair. For a minute, both of them did not speak.

"Christmas is fast approaching," said Dumbledore brightly.

"Yeah…" said Draco, trailing off.

"I expect you'll be getting a letter from your father soon." continued Dumbledore.

Draco reached into his pocket and tossed it to Dumbledore, who caught it in his hands. He unwrinkled the parchment and studied it silently. After he completed reading the letter, he looked up at Draco with a slight frown.

"Why didn't you inform me that Blaise Zabini interrogated you?" asked Dumbledore.

Draco shrugged and said honestly, "I really didn't think it was a big deal. Besides, it was two months ago…"

Dumbledore shook his head and said, "Draco, this could be serious. If Blaise is suspicious of your actions, he could cause great harm to the Order and to you."

Draco did not say anything. His thoughts began to race to the dream. Could the Death Eater that killed him in the dream be Blaise? But no—it couldn't have been. He vaguely remembered the Death Eater looked much older than Blaise; it couldn't have been Blaise. Was his dream some sort of prophecy or just a recurring dream that he seemed to have every week? In the background, he heard Dumbledore's voice, and he slowly came back to the present.

"After the interrogation, have you had any more confrontations with Blaise?" asked Dumbledore seriously.

"Just Quidditch practice," answered Draco. "I try to avoid that bloody git…"

"Never give away your position, Draco." said Dumbledore earnestly. "No matter what."

"I know." said Draco.

"It does not matter how much you trust them or how bad the situation may be," continued Dumbledore, emphasizing his serious tone.

"I know." repeated Draco.

Dumbledore folded the parchment neatly and handed it back to Draco. With a sigh, Draco took the letter and threw it in the nearby fireplace. Dumbledore got up from his seat and walked toward the little window next to his desk. From what Draco could see, the clouds were still out there, and the stars were little in numbers. The moon serenely shone over the lake with a cloud threatening to devour it.

Dumbledore sighed and said quietly, "I must ask you to be patient, young Malfoy. This war is not going to end any time soon."

Draco did not say anything. To be honest, he wasn't sure what to say, so he remained quiet.

"The Muggles are suspecting things now; this war is getting out of hand."said the old headmaster wearily.

"Are they?" asked Draco with little concern in his voice. He couldn't help it; he was raised that way.

"Oh yes," responded Dumbledore. "It's all over their news: unexplained deaths, destruction of towns…" he trailed off and shook his head.

Again, Draco didn't say anything. Dumbledore continued gazing out the window, as if deep in thought. For a while, neither of them spoke. Draco checked his watch: it was almost two thirty in the morning.

"I fear you will hate me for the position I've put you in." said Dumbledore suddenly.

Draco frowned and wondered what this was about. It was strange that Dumbledore was suddenly showing concern for Draco; he wasn't really used to it. His parents never really cared if he was in danger or not; as long as he was part of the Death Eaters, everything was okay.

"I don't think you'll need to worry about that, sir," said Draco slowly. "If anything goes wrong, it will be my fault, my mistake. I chose this path."

"Mistake," echoed Dumbledore quietly. "I've made quite a few myself."

For the third time, Draco did not know what to say. He shifted uncomfortably in his wooden seat and did not utter a word. Dumbledore snapped out of his strange reverie and restored the twinkle in his eye that had been gone for a while. He smiled at Draco and walked toward him.

Draco stood up, as Dumbledore put a comforting hand on his shoulder. They walked toward the door, as Dumbledore said, "Patience, Draco. I will see you tomorrow morning, and we will discuss that you should do over break. Get some rest; you surely need it."

Draco nodded and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

Within the next few hours, it was daylight; seven o'clock in the morning to be precise. Naturally, Draco did not sleep until three in the morning, for he couldn't seem to fall asleep until then. The Great Hall was filled with a fair amount of people by the time he got there. Pansy was sitting with Blaise; Crabbe and Goyle sat on the far end of the table. Glaring at Blaise, he sat down near Crabbe and Goyle, who both grunted a morning greeting.

He found that he no appetite to eat, and he could really do with a cigarette about now. It irritated him that he did not have anymore, and they didn't sell them anywhere near Hogwarts. Again, he was not asking Blaise. Taking two bites from a toast, he left the Great Hall quickly.

"Oh, hello, Draco!" came a cheery voice.

Draco turned around and saw Luna Lovegood, beaming at him. She rushed up to him with a copy of _The Quibbler _in her hands. Draco eyed it uneasily, wondering if there was some article about him in there, which is why she was exceptionally happy to see him today.

"What do you want, Lovegood?" asked Draco, slightly disgruntled. He continued walking out the Great Hall, while Luna followed. They both walked outside, where the clouds had completely gathered overhead.

"How are you?" asked Luna.

"Great." said Draco sarcastically and curtly.

"That's good," said Luna casually. "The game between Gryffindor and Slytherin is coming up soon."

"Why are you talking to me?" asked Draco coldly.

"I'm waiting for Ginny, actually," said Luna brightly. "She's still eating, and I saw you coming out so I thought I'd talk to you. Aren't you glad it's Friday?"

"Sure."

Turning around, Draco simply walked away from her. Her cheery mood was slightly nerve racking, and it didn't suit him to be around cheery people. Luna did not seem to mind the sudden departure of Draco, for she was probably used to it.

The day dragged on; Draco hated it. He wasn't looking forward to Quidditch practice either, but he knew he had to go because he was captain. By five in the afternoon, he was in his Quidditch robes and ready to practice with his team members. They played a small game and made opposite teams for each other. Draco maintained his position as seeker, and Blaise was made the opposing seeker, much to his annoyance.

The snitch was let loose and they both kicked off.

Draco hovered in the air, searching for the snitch, determined to get it before Blaise could. A few minutes passed and his team scored. Another few and the two teams were tied. A full fifteen minutes passed until Draco finally saw a golden glare in the sky. Blaise, apparently seeing it too, raced toward it with Draco. They were now elbow to elbow, and Draco violently shoved him away. Blaise, coming back to his side, did the very same thing. Annoyed and angry at what Blaise did, Draco shoved him harder to the side, almost causing him to fall off his broom.

Blaise came back and violently kicked Draco on his side. The anger that Draco felt for Blaise ignited…reporting him to Death Eaters…telling Voldemort he was in the Order….Draco flew right into Blaise and pushed him off the broom. However, Blaise held on to the broom with one hand and instantly got back up.

It became a shoving contest, more than a Quidditch game. Soon, both of them forgot about the snitch and they were both trying to get the other off the broom. Finally, one of the chasers noticed this and stopped the game.

"What the bloody hell are you two doing?" he asked.

The other team members descended to the ground, looking up quizzically at Blaise and Draco. Panting and out of breath, Draco descended to the ground as well and dismounted.

"What the hell was that all about?" exclaimed the chaser, again.

"Quidditch practice is over." said Draco through clenched teeth, glaring at Blaise. "Zabini, you're staying behind."

The Slytherin team shuffled back to the locker rooms, leaving Blaise and Draco behind. They were both glaring at each other.

"What the fuck were you doing?" asked Blaise angrily.

Draco shook his head and took out his wand. Angrily, he pointed it at Blaise and said, "I've just about had enough of your shit, Blaise."

Blaise looked carelessly at the wand, which was now jabbing into his chest. Almost in a mocking way, he rolled his eyes. A smirk became plastered on his face, as he drawled, "You're going to kill me in the middle of the Quidditch stadium because of a little shoving?"

"I don't need to explain myself for what _you _did, Zabini." said Draco.

"And what did I do?"

Draco shook his head and smirked as well. He laughed hollowly and said, "Don't act innocent or I'll hex you."

"That doesn't scare me, Malfoy."said Blaise in a low, dangerous tone. Before Draco could blink, Blaise had his wand out and pointed it at Draco.

However, Draco acted quickly and shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!"

At the exact same time, Blaise shouted, "_Stupefy_!"

The two spells clashed and made them both shoot backwards and fall to the hard ground. Wincing slightly at the pain in his back, Draco stumbled up and pointed the wand at Blaise. From the ground, Blaise had his wand at the ready and slowly stood up. Draco sensed that they were on dangerous grounds right now. His jaw clenched as he tightened his grip on the wand, getting ready for Blaise's next curse.

"Are you going to tell me what you did?" asked Draco, quietly.

"It's obvious you already know, Draco, so what's the point of telling you what I did," said Blaise, "even if I did anything."

"Why don't you refresh my memory?" said Draco, raising his wand. However, it was too late.

"_CRUCIO_!"

Draco was on the ground again, but he was writhing with pain. He let out a scream of agony and felt that there were a million knives stabbing at him continuously. The spell stopped, and he felt limp. It was not the first time the Cruciatus curse was used on him, but it never ceased to cause pain. Gasping for breath, Draco tried to get up from the ground. However, Blaise put his foot over Draco's chest and leaned in.

"Does that refresh your memory?" asked Blaise quietly, with a smirk.

"Fuck you, Zabini." spat Draco weakly.

"The Dark Lord may not believe me now, but he will," said Blaise, stilling leaning on his leg. "In the meantime, Malfoy, you need to think about where your god damn loyalty lies."

"I know where my loyalty lies, Zabini," said Draco through clenched teeth.

"Do you?" asked Blaise.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing," threatened Draco "torturing a high ranked Death Eater?"

Draco, with a newfound strength, pushed Blaise off of him and managed to get his wand back. He pointed it at Blaise and muttered the Cruciatus curse. He gladly watched Blaise scream in pain and stopped the curse when he felt satisfied.

"What did you do, Blaise?" said Draco. It was a rhetorical question because Draco answered him, "You reported me to the Dark Lord, telling him I was under the suspicion of working for the Order."

Blaise got up and staggered a bit. He had his wand at the ready, but he did not curse Draco just yet. His breath became shaky as he tried to get over the pain of the Cruciatus curse.

With a shuddering breath, Blaise said, "I know you are."

"Whatever, you son of a bitch." said Draco.

Catching Draco off his guard, Blaise shouted, "_Crucio_!"

The pain came back to Draco, and he fell to the ground in agony. This time he tried not to scream; he did not want to give in to Zabini. However, the pain was so unbearable that he had to let it out. Suddenly, it stopped and he heard Blaise chuckling.

Again, Blaise stepped on his chest, and his breath began to feel constricted. Draco desperately groped the ground for his wand. However, Blaise got to it first and began twirling it between his fingers.

"I can't believe you have the higher rank," said Blaise quietly, "You can't even defend yourself from a simple Cruciatus…" He sighed mockingly and said, "Well, the only reason you got in was because of your father, anyway, so I shouldn't have to feel too bad…"

With Draco's wand, he pointed it at Draco again and said, almost in a lazy tone, "_Crucio_!"

Again, Draco writhed in pain and he heard Blaise laugh. However, it was followed by a familiar voice, who sounded fearful.

"STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE! GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Draco felt a whish of Blaise's robe, and he knew that he ran away. He heard footsteps running toward him, but he could not open his eyes to see who it was ground vibrate with. Although the Cruciatus curse was gone, the pain continued to throb all over his body. He opened his eyes and saw that his vision was blurry. He closed it again and moaned with pain. He felt the person next to him, trembling, "Oh my God….Oh my God…please don't be dead."

From the sound of the voice, it was a girl. She grasped his hand and shook him, but he felt that his body had given up the will to move. He tried to say something, but no sound came to his lips. The girl whimpered and choked back a sob; he knew she was getting frantic.

"Oh no…please don't be dead," she whispered frantically.

Swallowing hard, he whispered hoarsely, "I'll live."

A sigh of relief came from the girl, and he felt her hand loosen its grasp on his. He felt a soft hand on his cheek and his eyes slowly opened. He could see a lot of red, but he wasn't sure if that was the sun set or something else. Groggily he sat up; his head immediately felt dizzy, and he almost fell back down. However, she caught him just before he hit the hard ground.

"I'll get help…" she assured.

Immediately Draco shook his head and weakly grasped the sleeve of her robe. She tried to say something, but he cut her off.

"No, don't get help…I'll be fine…don't…just don't…" he said weakly.

"You need to go to the hospital wing now." she said urgently.

"No, no, I don't." muttered Draco, blinking furiously, trying to get his vision back.

"You've just been hit with the Cruciatus curse!" she said, "If you don't go…"

"I'll be fine," muttered Draco weakly. His vision was slowly coming back now.

"No, you won't…" said the girl, fearfully.

He could see that this girl had red hair, but the only girl who had red hair was--

"Weasley…" he said weakly.

"Yeah?" she responded.

He did not reply. Blinking several times, he tried to clear his vision completely. However, he began seeing random dots, and his head pounded with pain. He groaned, and he put his hand to his temple and began massaging. It did not ease away the pain.

"Malfoy," said Ginny softly and almost in a desperate tone, "As much as you think I hate you, I don't hate you enough to leave you here after you've been hit by the Cruciatus curse by…Merlin knows who."

Ginny began wringing her hands worriedly, and if Draco wasn't hurt, he would've thought it was rather amusing. His head felt dizzy again, and he just wanted to lie back down. He didn't want to go to the hospital wing or the dormitories. He just wanted to stay out here, where no one could bother him. Perhaps he could sink into the ground and just sleep forever.

"You really have to go to the hospital wing…" urged Ginny.

Draco closed his eyes and tried to not think about his headache. He opened them again and asked, "Why did you come out here?"

"I was going to practice some Quidditch right after your team, so I was waiting in the stands…" explained Ginny in a quiet tone.

It seemed like she feared if she talked in a loud voice, Draco would faint again. Draco smirked a little bit at this, but it instantly faded away. In a worried way, Ginny bit her lip and opened her mouth to say something.

However, Draco shook his head and said quietly, "I'm not going to the hospital wing, Weasley…"

"Who did this to you?" she asked quietly. "Why don't you report him?"

He shook his head and grasped Ginny's wrist. Firmly, he told her, "Whatever you do, Weasley, don't tell anyone--anyone about this."

Her eyes widened and she protested, "But…he used an Unforgivable—"

"I don't care." said Draco firmly. "Swear that you won't tell anyone…don't even mention anything…You didn't see anything…and you didn't hear anything either. Understand?"

She bit her lip and looked at the ground. Frowning with reluctance, she nodded and said she wouldn't tell anyone. Sighing, she reached behind her and got Draco's wand. She handed it to him; he took it and put it in his pocket.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Ginny continued to look at him worriedly and she said, "If you don't want to go to the hospital wing, then do you want to go back to the dormitories and get rest?"

"No," he said, "I'd rather stay here…"

"Malfoy," she began exasperatedly.

"Ginny," he said. The name was rather foreign on his tongue, and he didn't really feel comfortable saying it, but he felt it was the least he could do to make her listen.

From the look on her face, Ginny thought the name sounded strange coming from him as well. She blinked once and did not say anything. Quietly, she mumbled that the stands would be more comfortable, if he preferred to stay out here. Quickly, Draco got up from the ground, and he really wish he hadn't. Immediately, his head felt dizzy and light; he staggered. Ginny caught him by the arm.

She smiled, obviously reminiscing about the first day of school, and said quietly, "That's what you get for standing up too fast…"

Draco and Ginny walked up to the stands and sat down on the wooden benches. For some reason, Draco felt rather comforted by Ginny's presence and how she was quiet but caring at the same time. They sat a good distance from each other, and they did not speak. Draco sighed and looked at the sky, wondering how Zabini managed to use the curse on him twice.

He had wanted to use the curse, as well. However, something was holding him back…

"How are you feeling?" asked Ginny tentatively.

"I'm better," said Draco.

Ginny flushed and said, "D-Draco, I think you should really go to the hospital wing. Please…"

Draco wanted to say, "Since when did you care?", but the sound of his first name coming from her made him realize that she was sincere. She honestly cared about him right now, and she was deadly terrified that he might be hurt.

Softening a bit, he said, "I'm fine—this isn't the first time I've been hit with the Cruciatus curse."

"No," she said firmly, "Please go…I'll go with you, if you want…I promise I won't tell anyone, and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't ask anyway."

"Yes, she would," said Draco, somewhat bemused, "She'd ask me what was wrong."

Ginny sighed, giving up on Draco. She continued looking at Draco in such a worried way, he began getting uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and looked away from her.

"You can leave me now," he muttered, "I'll be fine."

He looked back at her, and she flushed. She hesitated, and it was obvious she did not want to go, in fear that he would die if she left. Draco wondered why she cared so much.

"Or you can stay, Weasley," said Draco. "Either way…I don't really care right now…I'm too tired to care right now…"

Ginny sighed and the conversation ended. The daylight began to fade away, and the night came. Once again, there was this space between them that Draco did not feel very comfortable with. He was too busy thinking about Blaise and the Death Eaters to wonder why Ginny was sitting there with him. It crossed his mind a few times, but he ignored it.

Again, Ginny sighed. Draco looked away from the lake, from a distance, and looked at her. She laid down on the bench behind Draco and gazed up at the sky.

"Do you come here often?" asked Draco.

"Yeah…I've seen you out here too." said Ginny quietly, not taking her eyes off the sky. "You're a pretty good seeker."

"You don't have to be nice to me just because I was hit with the Cruciatus Curse," said Draco with a slight sneer. "I'm still the same Malfoy you hate. Besides, it's not even a big deal, so I don't know why you're still here."

Ginny sighed and said in a sharp tone, "Don't take it so carelessly, Malfoy…it really scared me today."

Draco raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why?"

Ginny turned her head and faced Draco. The worry in her eyes still did not fully fade. It was probably because it was her first time witnessing someone being agonized by the Cruciatus curse. No doubt, it traumatized her a bit. Draco saw her shudder a bit at a cold wind that blew by and probably at the thought of the Cruciatus curse.

"I thought you died…" said Ginny quietly.

Draco laughed hollowly and said in a quiet, amused tone, "Wouldn't that have been a good thing?"

Ginny frowned and looked back at the sky. After a pause she said in an angry tone, "I don't wish death for anyone because I don't hate anyone that much."

"Except Voldemort."

Ginny flinched at the name, but it was not out of fear. It was out of something entirely different, but Draco could not tell what it was. He  
laid down on his bench as well. He found it surprisingly comfortable, and there were no threats of him falling off to the ground. It seemed to fit perfectly fine. He turned on his side to face Ginny, and she did the same.

"So, even if I was a Death Eater, you wouldn't want me dead?" he asked in a mocking tone.

Ginny sighed and said, "I know you're not a Death Eater, and I'm sorry I said so the other day…"

Draco stiffened slightly and was almost speechless. He pulled at his sleeve uneasily, but Ginny did not notice. She laid on her back and gazed at the stars once again. Draco did the same, finally feeling solace by gazing at the beautiful night sky. Secretly, he was glad that Ginny came. If it weren't for her, he probably would have died from the pain because he knew Blaise was about to torture him to death. However, the other and stronger side of him did not want to admit this and was actually annoyed that Weasley was still with him, beside him, trying to make the best of their civilized conversation.

**Review, please! **


	8. The Comfortable Silence

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **Own Harry Potter? Tsch. I wish.

**Author's Note: **This whole chapter is D/G. Talking. Getting to know each other. Trying to keep the relationship steady. ** PLEASE REVIEW! I've been noticing that I've been getting _way more_ hits than reviews. That's hurtful. :( It's really nice to leave feedback. **

**Chapter 8: The Comfortable Silence**

Draco's head continued to throb in pain, and he massaged his temples continuously in hopes that the pain would ease. He had a feeling that his brain might just explode if the pain did not stop. He groaned quietly in pain, as he put both of his hands over his eyes and pressed down. The random cold wind that blew by wasn't helping either.

"At least see Madam Pomfrey for that headache." said Ginny, who hadn't left his side.

They had been out on the stands for just ten minutes, mostly in the deepest silence. The awkward silences began to wear away, and Draco felt a bit more comfortable in a Weasley's presence. For that whole ten minutes, the pain in his head did not stop, and he was beginning to wonder if he was turning into Potter or something.

"I'm fine," said Draco stubbornly, opening his eyes and blinking furiously to clear his vision.

Ginny was sitting up on the bench now, and she glared at him. Her hair was a bit messy from lying down on the benches, so she began straightening it out with her fingers. Draco thought that was rather stupid, and he rolled his eyes at her. He took out his wand and pointed it towards her hair. With a flick, her red hair immediately became straight and neater.

She flushed with embarrassment and mumbled, "I didn't think—"

"Obviously," replied Draco coolly.

Ginny untangled her fingers from her soft hair and said, "Thanks."

Draco sat up from his bench, trying his best to fight away his headache. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hand. He felt Ginny touch his arm, and he quickly looked up. She jumped slightly at his sudden movement.

"Why can't you just go to the hospital wing?" she asked quietly, "Are you trying to prove something by sitting here and enduring the pain?"

"No," snapped Draco. "I just don't want to go."

"Well, you could save yourself the pain by just getting some headache potion." protested Ginny, taking her hand away from his arm.

Draco shook his head and said, "Why are you still here, Weasley?"

"Is it so shocking that someone is actually _worried _about you?" said Ginny, getting a bit angry.

"It's hard to believe that a Weasley would be worried about me." said Draco through gritted teeth, obviously getting angry at Ginny as well.

"If it weren't for me, you would've been dead!" said Ginny, crossing her arms. "And don't give me that 'I didn't need to be saved' story! That's bullocks!"

Draco could not fight the urge to roll his eyes again. The Weasley actually believed that she saved his life, which is partly true. However, he was not about to admit some wizard's debt to her. Malfoys, Weasleys, and wizard's debt aren't supposed to be in the same sentence. Her voice was piercingly annoying, and he just wanted to kill himself to make the headache go away.

A stinging pain came across his head as fast as lightening. He felt as if his skull were to split in half from it. Draco pressed his palm upon his forehead, as he began massaging it furiously. However, he stopped as soon as he started because he realized how much that reminded him of Potter. Ginny, on the other hand, had stopped looking angry and looked rather worried.

She sat beside him and was uncomfortably close. Timidly, she touched his temple, only to feel an unusually fast and rapid pulse. At first, Draco wanted to grab her wrist and throw it to the side, exclaiming to not touch him. However, her soft and cool hand felt a bit relieving over the white-hot pain.

"Are these the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse?" asked Ginny, feeling the other temple now.

Draco nodded, as he took her hand and gently pushed it away. She let out a shuddering breath, as she stared at him with eyes filled with worry and horror.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, completely appalled.

Draco shrugged and muttered, "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does!" said Ginny sharply. "They should be in Azkaban for this!"

Draco let out a snort and said, "Like that would do anything, Weasley. The dementors have left Azkaban ages ago, so they'd escape in no time."

Ginny looked at the floor and mumbled something inaudible. However, Draco did not ask what she said because he really did not care. He looked away from her and cast his gaze upon the Quidditch field. He was feeling nothing at all, except for the pain in his head, which refused to go away. He tried to think of something else, but nothing positive came to mind.

"Perhaps we should go to dinner," suggested Ginny.

"We?" questioned Draco with an arched eyebrow. He looked back at Ginny, who flushed and muttered, "Er—you…"

"_You _can go to dinner," said Draco pointedly.

Ginny opened her mouth, about to protest, however she thought better of it. Maintaining her previous composure, she shrugged and said indifferently, "Alright then, suit yourself."

She got up from his side and walked to the staircase that went down to the Quidditch field. Her footsteps were audible against the wooden stairs, and Draco listened until he could barely hear the soft thuds of her steps. Finally, everything was completely silent. The bench creaked, as Draco lied down on it.

What was he to do now? Blaise was out to kill him because he suspects too much, and Draco can't even take his revenge with Dumbledore around. It was true that Blaise got away with it, but the trust Dumbledore had in him would certainly falter. His head began to hurt even more now, and he wondered when it was going to end.

He closed his eyes and tried his best not to think of the searing pain. How was he going to get back at Zabini? Would he be found out by Christmas? Anything could happen right now; perhaps he should talk to Dumbledore? Draco decided that he would go later because the bench was feeling rather comfortable at the moment. A sense of weariness came over him, and he decided that he just need to rest for a little bit…

He yawned and slowly drifted from all consciousness. Sleep welcomed him with open arms…

_Draco was walking down the same path again, clear to view, but foggy at the sides. The Death Eaters appeared again, bowing their heads slightly as Draco walked past them. He saw the lone Death Eater, and he walked up to him. _

_As if on cue, Draco opened his mouth and inquired, "Who are you?"_

_No reply, but the same chilling laugh…_

_Draco took out his wand in a frustrated way and pointed it at the man. _

_"Tell me, who are you?"_

_Silence. _

_Then suddenly, the Death Eater replied with the quietest whisper, "Do you regret, Malfoy?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"MORSEMORDE!"_

_A green spark went up to the skies. It was the same mark from the last dream, and it confused Draco more and more. He turned back to the Death Eater and asked, "What is that? And who are you?"_

_"Who am I…" echoed the Death Eater, quietly. "You should know already, Malfoy."_

_The Death Eater pointed at himself and then pointed at the other Death Eaters. He repeated, "Do you regret all of this?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"You," said the Death Eater, edging closer towards him, "A traitor to your father, a traitor to the Dark Lord. You, who works for the Order, yet works for Death Eaters as well. You, who's doing what's 'right' and knowing what's 'wrong'. You, a blood traitor…do you regret anything."_

_Draco felt his blood drain from his face, and his heart drop to his stomach. He did not know what to say, and his mouth felt unusually dry. _

_"I'm not a blood traitor." said Draco hoarsely. _

_"Are you not?" asked the Death Eater with a slight sneer in his voice. "So, tell me, Malfoy, do you regret switching sides?"_

_Draco paused and contemplated this a moment. Slowly, carefully choosing each word, he lied, "I'm a Death Eater, and I have no idea what you're talking about. There is only one side, and that is the Dark Lord's."_

_The Death Eater drew his head back and laughed. It was chilling to hear, and Draco shuddered at the sound. After he stopped laughing, the masked Death Eater faced Draco once again, still chuckling slightly. _

_"Very good, Mr. Malfoy," he said, chuckling coldly. Soon, his laugh ended completely and his tone completely changed. Raising his wand to Draco's chest, he said, "Pity I don't believe you."_

_"It is a pity…" muttered Draco, looking down at the wand pointing at his chest. He cringed as the man pressed it harder into his chest. _

_"Do you regret this?" asked the Death Eater._

_"No."_

_"Then, I'll make you regret it," whispered the Death Eater. Right at that moment, he unmasked himself. Draco gasped, recognizing the face immediately. However, it was too late, and Draco was too confused to stop anything. "Avada kedavra!"_

Draco awoke with a start with his wand firmly grasped and raised at the ready. Cold sweat was pouring from his forehead, and his breath was raggedy and shaky. He panted, as though he had just run a mile. It took him a few moments to realize that his wand was pointed into the face of a wide-eyed Ginny Weasley, who looked fearful. For a second, he had no idea where he was. Then his thoughts were recollected, and he remembered the whole incident with Blaise…

"Malfoy?" said Ginny meekly.

Hurriedly, Draco lowered his wand and stuffed it in his pocket. He muttered an apology, as he rubbed his eyes. Ginny let out a slow breath of relief. Draco tried to remember his dream; it was so clear to him, yet all the images were slowly fading away. He put his face in his hands, forcing himself to remember the face of the Death Eater. He was so familiar…who was he….it was someone very close to him….

"Bad dream?" asked Ginny.

Draco did not reply. He put his hands away from his face and looked at Ginny. She was holding a bundle of something, and he asked what it was. Ginny blushed furiously and said, "I thought I'd bring you something to eat…"

Despite himself, Draco smirked a little; it was more like a grin, which was very unlike him. This caused Ginny to blush even more as she handed him the bundle of food. Gingerly, he took it from her hands but did not open it. He didn't feel an appetite coming on at all. In fact, he was beginning to become annoyed at the fact he couldn't remember his own dream. He stared moodily at the bundle and remained silent.

"How are you feeling?" asked Ginny.

It took Draco a while to find his words, and he merely replied with, "I'm okay."

Silence.

Draco checked his watch, which read nine thirty. He had been asleep for nearly two hours, which meant dinner had been over for two hours. Ginny must have gotten food from the kitchens, which was quite impressive to Draco. He set the bundle aside.

"Isn't it past your curfew?" asked Draco.

"I'm a prefect," reminded Ginny gently.

Draco chuckled and said, "Right."

Silence.

"What was your dream about?" said Ginny softly.

Draco looked at her, and she looked back with a small smile. He could not understand what she was talking about, or more importantly, what she was getting at. He felt her eyes trying to grasp something within his, and he saw her small hint of disappointment when she failed to find it.

"War," replied Draco curtly.

Ginny's small smile faltered and she sighed sadly. She looked at the sky and whispered, "When will it end?"

Draco did not reply. For a split second, he felt the need to comfort her. However, he shook himself from that thought. If anyone needs the comforting, it would be him. Although her whole family was in the Order, he was at risk, alone. At least she had people around her. However, the bitter thoughts did not seem to stand on a solid ground, as he felt a small feeling of sympathy.

Draco clenched his fists and forced himself to kill the emotions. Why was he feeling these emotions? Did the Cruciatus Curse actually make him delirious?

"Do you always stay up late by yourself?" asked Ginny.

"What do you mean?" said Draco, rather stupidly.

"Every time I'm out here, I always see you playing Quidditch," said Ginny, "or just hovering in mid air, when you're not trying to be a good seeker." She let a small forced laugh.

"Sounds like someone is being quite the stalker," drawled Draco with a smirk.

"That's not what—" began Ginny hotly and blushing madly.

"Because Potter is taken, you need to find another guy to stalk," teased Draco, "It's okay, I understand: you can't help it because of my astonishing good looks."

Ginny rolled her eyes but couldn't help but to smile. Her blush did not fade away, as she said, "That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean, Weasley?" said Draco, smirking.

"Well…what are you thinking about?" asked Ginny tentatively. "I mean, it can't be N.E.W.T.s, as you said before because only Hermione does that."

Draco shook his head and said, "Stop acting like you care so much."

Ginny began to protest, but Draco interrupted, "You don't care about me, Weasley. You can't care about me. I'm a Malfoy, you're a Weasley. Hell is supposed to freeze over when this happens."

"Well, I guess hell is cooling down a bit because I can't help but to feel a bit concerned," said Ginny. Her face was as red as her hair now, and she muttered to herself inaudibly. However, Draco caught the words, "Why did I say that?"

He smirked at her, which caused her to blush even more if that was possible. From what he could see, Ginny was a bit taken with him. It was very amusing. Many girls have fancied him before, but none were like Ginny—she was innocent. Well, he could not assume that Ginny actually _fancied _him, but she was quite embarrassed at the things she said. Suffice to say, she held concern for him.

"Now why would you be concerned for me?" asked Draco with a soft, mocking tone.

"I don't know," said Ginny, almost in a desperate tone. "You just seem so—so…"

" 'So' what?"

"So alone," she finished lamely.

"That's funny coming from you," said Draco, narrowing his eyes. "I distinctly remember you telling me not to think I'm alone in this God forsaken world. Now, you're saying I am alone."

She did not say anything. Ginny knew he was right, and a look of guilt came over her.

"But you shouldn't be so alone," said Ginny earnestly.

"But I am." said Draco.

"Why do you always make it seem like nothing can be saved?" Ginny asked gently.

He shook his head. For a second, he wanted to tell her the very reason he was alone, but he couldn't. Draco also could not understand why she made him feel the need to prove himself innocent, to prove that he wasn't like his father, to prove he was on the right side.

_Why? _Was it because she was the only person that showed that she cared for him? But didn't Luna show it too? But why Weasley? Out of everything her brother has said about him, why did Ginny insist on showing this concern? Was it genuine?

As if on cue, both of them lied down on the same bench. Their heads were almost touching, and they both gazed up at the calm night sky. Draco heard Ginny sigh quietly. For some reason, it didn't seem awkward that she was here anymore…

Silence.

"Do you think the Chudley Cannons will win this season?" asked Ginny, trying to change the dynamic and the subject.

Draco was grateful for the change of subject.

"No, they're the worst team," replied Draco, humoring her, "Tornados are going to win, as always."

"The only reason you support them is because they just started winning a few seasons ago," justified Ginny.

Draco thought of this for a moment and said, "True."

"So do you think you're going to catch the snitch this time?" asked Ginny, "Our match is after Christmas break."

"Would you rather have me or Potter catch the snitch?" said Draco coolly.

"Harry," answered Ginny, truthfully. "I want Gryffindor to win."

"I don't really care who wins, anymore." said Draco quite honestly.

"The old rivalry between you and Harry doesn't exist anymore, then?" asked Ginny skeptically.

"I meant that I don't really care much for Quidditch," explained Draco, "And it's more than rivalry, Weasley; it's hate."

"The same hate you hold for my family?" asked Ginny testily.

"Why do you ask that question, when you know the answer, Weasley?" said Draco with a hint of anger.

"But you don't seem to hate me," said Ginny.

Silence.

"Don't flatter yourself, Weasley." said Draco, finally.

At this point, Draco was expecting Ginny to leave. However, she remained, lying motionless on the bench. He felt the silence creep upon them again. These silences weren't as awkward as Draco expected them to be. They were quite comfortable, and it wasn't silent because they were angry. He felt that the silence was rather calm, and it was only there when they had nothing else to say.

"If you hated me, you would have left hours ago." said Ginny.

"Well, I like it here, Weasley," pointed out Draco. "Therefore, I have the right to stay."

"So you'd stay in one place, even though someone you hate or you absolutely cannot stand is there?" said Ginny with the same skeptical tone she used before.

"Yeah, I would, Weasley," said Draco, thinking how he was in the exact situation now. It was rather ironic how she brought it up…

"It's Ginny."

"What?" asked Draco, snapping out of his thoughts.

"My name," pointed out Ginny, "It's Ginny..."

"I know what your name is," said Draco indignantly.

"Well, then, use it," said Ginny crossly, "Stop calling me by my last name. It gets annoying."

"You call me Malfoy, and I don't have a problem with it," argued Draco.

"That's you, _Draco_." said Ginny with great emphasis on his name. "I, on the other hand, would like to be called Ginny."

"Too bad, _Weasley_."said Draco, emphasizing her last name on purpose. He smirked to the night sky, as he heard a huff of annoyance.

"Ginny."she corrected.

"I like Weasley better."said Draco, which was untrue. In the back of his head, he did like calling her Ginny.

"Or Ginevra, if you prefer," said Ginny.

"Ginevra?" said Draco. "I didn't know that was your actual name."

"I like Ginny better though," she said quickly.

In truth, Draco thought they were both good names. However, he was not about to say that to the Weasley. Therefore, he remained silent, scolding himself for actually being friendly to her. But he could not help but to be nice to her, it started to come naturally. It wasn't a good sign.

Silence.

"Are you going home for Christmas?" asked Ginny.

Draco felt his heart sink. He sighed dejectedly and said huskily, "Yeah, I am."

"Well, that will be good, won't it?" said Ginny optimistically but not really meaning it. Draco could tell.

"No, it won't." said Draco.

Silence.

"I'm staying here for Christmas," said Ginny.

"Oh."

"Mum reckons it'll be safer than the Ord—." Ginny stopped and immediately said, "With the war going on and everything."

"Than the Order Headquarters, you mean." said Draco, quietly.

"I—er—well, no…" stammered Ginny uncertainly.

"Don't worry," muttered Draco gruffly, "It's not like I'm going to start torturing you for information."

He was annoyed that she would actually think that. A familiar burn began to ignite from his forearm. He pressed his hand over it, knowing for sure he won't be able to Disapparate now. He checked his watch: it was eleven o'clock. It was a usual time for Death Eater meetings. As usual, he couldn't attend. The burn increased and he let out a small gasp of pain.

"Are you okay?" asked Ginny concernedly.

"Yeah, I just…" Draco trailed off. "I just got a splinter."

Ginny began to sat up and she said, "I can take it out."

"No, it's okay, Weasley," said Draco quickly. "I got it out.'

"It's Ginny." she said, lying back down with a small hint of annoyance in her voice.

He smirked and was amused at her persistence. In fact, he couldn't fight the urge to actually smile. But he quickly stopped smiling, realizing how inappropriate it was. Well, inappropriate wasn't the word—he just didn't understand why he was beginning to grow so…fond of Ginny.

He closed his eyes. He must be tired. He shouldn't be thinking these things, and it was certainly very un-Malfoy like. The more he kept his eyes closed, the more tired he became. He heard Ginny yawn and become silent again. Draco opened his eyes and closed them again. He took their millionth time of silence as an advantage to rest his eyes. He was just going to rest them…

His breathing became slow and heavy. Consciously, he noticed how their silence lasted a while than he expected. However, he didn't mind. Soon, he was drifting off into a deep, dreamless, peaceful sleep. A type of sleep he hadn't had in months, and it beckoned him warmly. He followed and was soon asleep.

Unknowingly, Ginny was the same.

It was a comfortable silence.

**Review, please.  
**


	9. Threats and Regrets

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Harry Potter, a lot of things would be different.

**Author's Note**: **_LET'S PRETEND THE SIXTH BOOK DOESN'T EXIST!_** Before the 6th book, I decided that I'd just change this story, according to what the book gave us. However, I don't believe I can, because of...clears throat certain reasons. Anyway, I'm not very sure I actually...er like Ginny in canon. In fact, I hate her. So..technically, I'm "OOC" with Ginny. Whatever. Short chapter, long update. Sorry. And sorry for grammar blah blah blah..okay, let's get on with it!

**Chapter 9: Threats and Regrets**

Even if the dungeons were cold in the winter, they were never this cold. Draco felt as if he had fallen into a tub of cold water, but he refused to open his eyes. His bed also felt strangely stiff and hard; normally, it was rather soft and comfortable. Blindly, he groped around him, hoping for a blanket to pull up. To his surprise, he found no blankets at all and a rather cold breeze blew by. He shivered, but he just didn't want to open his eyes.

He then realized that there was an oddly bright light shining on his face; it was warm, despite the cold around him. His eyes opened slowly and closed against the illumination that threatened to blind him. It did not strike him odd that he heard birds chirping in the background until a few seconds later. In his waning moments of sleep, he frowned, wondering if he was dreaming. Again, he opened his eyes, and he groaned at the light that went straight into his line of vision. Groggily, he opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times against the light.

The first thing that came to his mind was: _where the hell am I? _

Draco sat up quickly and looked around. He was in one of the Quidditch stands; he must have fallen asleep last night while talking to Ginny. Quickly, he checked his watch—it was six o'clock in the morning, Saturday.

Beside him, Ginny was still asleep. She was lying on her side, with her head rested on her hands. Her legs were slightly curled up; she seemed to be sleeping quite comfortably. At that moment, another brisk wind blew by them. He saw Ginny shiver and curl up more.

Gently, he shook Ginny awake. "Weasley, get up," he hissed.

Ginny's eyes fluttered opened and she yawned. She must have thought that she was in bed because she stretched widely and almost lost her balance on the bench. She let out a small scream of surprise but kept her balance. Quickly, she sat up with the same puzzled look that Draco must have had. He stifled a laugh of amusement when she looked up at him, completely bewildered. She frowned.

"Oh," she groaned, "Where am I?"

"Quidditch stand," replied Draco shortly.

She rubbed her eyes and yawned. For a moment, she just sat there, looking completely dazed. Draco frowned and watched her with a look of inquiry. She blinked and snapped out of her thoughts.

Again, she shivered, pulling her robes closer towards her. She looked up the sky, as she noticed the warmth of the sun had suddenly disappeared. A gray cloud had covered the sun entirely. Draco let out a breath, feeling rather impatient. He was cold, but Ginny didn't even seem to be noticing anything. A whole minute passed by, and they did not say a word to each other. Ginny was tracing a pattern on the wooden bench with her finger.

"Well," said Draco, shattering the cold silence, "Are you just going to sit here and freeze to death?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him and said, "I didn't ask you to stay."

Draco blinked, speechless. However, he quickly shrugged it off and walked towards the staircase, leading down to the Quidditch field. After a few moments, he heard the soft footsteps of Ginny trailing behind him. When he reached the field, Ginny came up beside him. Without saying a word, both of them walked across the grounds, toward the castle of Hogwarts.

When they reached the doors, Draco reached the handle to pull it open. Suddenly, Ginny grabbed his wrist, preventing him from opening the door. Draco looked at her with bewilderment and slight annoyance. She shook her head and muttered, "Wait."

"What?" demanded Draco, impatiently.

"There might be people in there," said Ginny, looking around nervously.

"And?" asked Draco.

Ginny sighed impatiently, as if it was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world. Draco, however, did not find it obvious.

"What would they think if they saw both of us coming in at bloody six o'clock in the morning?" said Ginny, turning a shade of red.

"They would think that we were out for a lovely early morning stroll, of course," drawled Draco, rolling his eyes.

"Even so," argued Ginny, "They'll think there is something, you know, going on."

She did have a point, even if it was rather stupid. Draco contemplated this for a moment, thinking of all the rumors that were bound to spread. Hesitant to open the door, Draco's hand slid from the handle. However, he drew in a breath and opened the door. Sure enough, the relatively small crowds that were entering the Great Hall turned their heads curiously at the opened door. Ginny, surprisingly, held her composure and sauntered over to a small group of friends, who immediately began their mindless chattering with her—questions, gossip, and Draco. He could not help but to narrow his eyes at her and her stupid friends, when he heard his name.

She looked at him, almost apologetically, but her friends barely noticed. He shook his head and walked through the small crowds to the Great Hall. The Great Hall was still lacking many students, who were probably sleeping in, making up for the lack of sleep during the course of the week. However, as Draco walked toward the Slytherin table, he could feel the glares at the back of his head, as he passed by each table—Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and even Slytherins. Apparently, news travels fast around Slytherins, especially with Blaise Zabini.

Immediately, he lost his appetite.

As he took his seat at the far end of the Slytherin table, he looked up to see Ginny, sitting with the trio. From the Ravenclaw table, Luna Lovegood waltzed to the Gryffindor table and seated herself next to Ron Weasley, who was looking rather bemused by her dreamy gaze. Draco sighed inaudibly and looked around his own table; as soon as he met their eyes, the Slytherins immediately dropped their glare and continued eating their food.

_Imbeciles_, he thought to himself.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Blaise come into the Great Hall with Pansy. Following behind them were Crabbe and Goyle, looking rather sullen and moody. Draco smirked; at least Crabbe and Goyle were still on his side. _Like that will do any good…_

Blaise sat at the other end of the table, much to Draco's relief. Crabbe and Goyle, however, sat across from Draco with their usual grunts of "hello". Draco barely nodded to acknowledge their presence. He tried to concentrate on eating his food, but out of the corner of his eye, he continued to see the glares. Draco was almost certain he could hear them talking about him—"the Death Eater". After a few minutes, he found that he couldn't take it anymore.

Abruptly, he stood up from his seat, making it scrape against the ground loudly. The Hall went quiet for a second, but the chattering continued after as if nothing happened. He stalked moodily toward the doors, still hearing their whispers, their accusations—"I heard he killed---.", "tortured…" "murdered…" "Death Eater."

No. He didn't do any of that…or at least, not on purpose…

He wanted to turn around and hex them. Draco felt an unexplainable anger boil inside of him, and he just wanted to take it out on the first person who crossed his path. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to walk on, to not look back at the glares. They did not matter; all that mattered was getting through these years as a spy. All that mattered was knowing he was on the right side.

But was this all that mattered?

Draco found himself walking aimlessly down an empty corridor. His footsteps echoed, bounced off the stone walls. Light was pouring in from the small windows, high above Draco's head.

"_Let go of me_!"

Draco froze in his tracks. He heard a thud against the wall and a small gasp of pain. Frowning, he edged closer toward where the noise was coming from. He planted himself against the wall, hoping not to be seen. Luckily, there was a stone column nearby, and he hid himself behind there.

"_Silencio!" _hissed a husky voice.

Sure enough, Draco could no longer hear the victim. However, the other continued talking in a low and dangerous tone.

"This is what you get for nosing into other people's business…" Draco heard a mocking sigh. "It's so _typical_ of you as a Gryffindor…and a Weasley…"

Draco immediately recognized the voice. It was Blaise, and the victim was most likely Ginny. She must have walked out of the Great Hall when Draco didn't notice; Blaise probably followed shortly after. Draco looked out from behind the column and saw that he was right. Ginny was shoved against a wall, and Blaise was pinning her down from the shoulders.

Quickly, Draco pulled out his wand and aimed it at Blaise from the side.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted.

Instantly, Blaise flew sideways and his wand flung into the air. Draco caught the wand just in time and pocketed it. Blaise quickly got up, glaring at Draco fiercely. Draco only smiled mockingly, pointing his wand at Blaise. Draco looked over at Ginny, who was silent and trembling with fear. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward his side.

"Ah, Blaise," said Draco casually, "Surely, you're not afraid that a Weasley will do you in? Shouldn't you be more afraid that I'll report you?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did," snapped Blaise, reaching into his pocket.

By his side, Ginny was trembling uncontrollably. She moved closer towards Draco, and Blaise eyed her with a wicked amusement. As if changing his mind, he took his hand out of his pocket.

He smirked and said with a scoff, "Looks like the Weasley has grown quite fond of you; associating yourself with blood traitors now, Malfoy? And I thought you could sink no lower."

Instantly, Draco's temper flared up. He raised his wand and shouted, "_Cruci_—"

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!"

Draco and Ginny whipped around, finding Professor McGonagall storming toward them. Her nose was flaring dangerously, and she looked absolutely furious. Draco instantly put his wand in his pocket, trying his best to act innocent. However, he did not pull it off, for McGonagall knew that look all too well.

"Malfoy, Zabini, and…Weasley?" said McGonagall incredulously. She shook her head and turned to Draco. "Were you just about to hex Zabini? If I'm not mistaken, with an Unforgivable Curse?"

"I'm afraid you are mistake then, Professor," said Draco boldly.

Her nose flared again. She looked to Ginny, who was still trembling with the utmost fear. McGonagall looked at her with indifference and said, "Miss Weasley is this true? And why in heaven's are you shaking like that?"

Ginny did not answer. She could not answer.

"Oh for heaven's sake—who put the Silencing Charm on Miss Weasley?" snapped McGonagall irritably.

Ginny pointed at Blaise, and McGonagall snapped her head toward him. "Is this true, Zabini?" asked McGonagall. In the meantime, Draco took the Silencing Charm off of Ginny, who whispered a very shaky "thanks".

Blaise looked at McGonagall carelessly and said, "I don't know what she's talking about."

"You liar," said Ginny angrily.

McGonagall huffed and said, "I really don't have time for this. Fifty points from Slytherin, ten points from Gryffindor. And you two," she pointed at Blaise and Draco "a week of detention."

McGonagall stormed away toward the other direction, muttering angrily and incoherently. Blaise shot a dangerous look at both Draco and Ginny; angrily, he said, "You'll both pay for this."

"Empty threat," mocked Draco.

"We'll see about that," said Blaise. He turned and left.

Draco glared at the back of Blaise's head, wishing that he could have put the Cruciatus Curse on him. But McGonagall just had to step in---he was so close to getting his revenge. Ginny, on the other hand, was looking rather fearful. She looked at Draco with wide eyes and asked, shaking, "Do you really think it was an empty threat?"

"Who knows," said Draco, indifferently shrugging his shoulders.

Ginny bit her lip. She whispered, "He said he'd do something worse to me than he did to my brother…"

Draco looked at Ginny, who looked right back at him with the deepest worry in her eyes. He sighed and said, "You don't need to worry about that, you have Potter and his friends to protect you."

Ginny shook her head, "If you hadn't stepped in, he probably would have---" She shuddered at the thought of what he could have done.

Draco smirked and said quietly, "Don't tell me you were in Dumbledore's Army for nothing…"

However, Ginny did not smile. Draco started walking and beckoned Ginny to walk along with him. She was in shock, and it was probably the first time she was really threatened by a Death Eater. He probably said more than that he was going to kill her—he probably threatened with rape, torture, and other horrible things. It was no wonder that she was frightened half to death.

After a few twists and turns of the corridors, they reached the Entrance Hall and walked to the outside, breathing in the brisk air. Ginny did not look anymore relaxed, and Draco did not blame her. They walked quietly along the small paths; Draco was half wondering why he was out here with her. Perhaps he did owe this to her….

"Why didn't you tell me that it was Blaise that did that to you?" asked Ginny quietly.

Draco kicked the ground, as he walked, and said, "I didn't know it was him."

"Liar."accused Ginny gently. "You knew very well it was him."

Draco shrugged and said honestly, "I just didn't want you to report it, Weasley…something noble a Gryffindor would do."

She frowned and stopped. Draco stopped, as well, but gave no expression whatsoever. She shook her head and pointed out, "I already promised I wouldn't, Draco…"

Draco felt something odd as she said his name. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew it was…odd. What was it?

"Oh, that's right," he said sarcastically, "Gryffindors keep their promises."

Ginny smiled. The clouds were already gathering overhead, ready for the Christmas snow. The air was cold around them, but the cloaks kept them warm enough. Ginny let out a shuddering breath and a smoke of vapor came out of her mouth. Seeing that smoke, Draco felt another craving for a cigarette, but it quickly went away.

"Sorry I dragged you into this, Weasley," said Draco, although his tone was a bit indifferent.

Ginny, however, ignored the indifference and said, "It's my fault for being a noble Gryffindor in the first place…saving you and everything…"

Draco laughed hollowly and said, "Do you regret it now?"

"Not at all," replied Ginny. "You needed to be saved." As those words came out, Ginny immediately flushed and looked away.

Draco felt a bit happier after she said that, but he did not show it at all. Outwardly, he smirked and said, "Typical Gryffindor…"


	10. A Different View

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter, a lot of things would change…But I don't. So…tough.

**Author's Note:** Right. So there is a reference to book six in the first paragraph about Felix Felicis (the lucky potion). That's about it. **_THE SIXTH BOOK DOES NOT EXIST! AND PLEASE REVIEW!  
_**

**Chapter 10: A Different View**

Christmas was never Draco's favorite holiday. He found it totally ridiculous that people actually had to go out and buy things for other people just to live up to the Christmas spirit. Luckily, he had no one to buy Christmas presents for, and he would receive nothing at all. If he was lucky enough, Dumbledore might just let him off on the whole spy mission and let him live life. However, Draco was pretty sure that even if he drank ten bottles of Felix Felicis, he wouldn't be lucky enough to score something that high.

The snow drifted down upon Draco and the rest of the people who were moving about quickly at Hogsmeade village. Many were squeezing their way into crowded stores, trying to fight for the products that each store had to offer. Draco merely rolled his eyes at them and continued walking along the snowy paths of Hogsmeade. He was actually fancying himself a cup of warm butterbeer…

"Oh, hello Draco!" came a dreamy voice that he knew far too well.

"Hello Luna," he replied dully.

"Fancy seeing you here at Hogsmeade," she said brightly.

Draco saw that she was not alone. In fact, Potter, Weasley, and Granger were right behind her. They were all staring at her like she had gone off her rocker, which she clearly had. Draco actually admired her boldness.

"Have you seen Ginny?" she asked, "We're looking for her…"

"No," said Draco, "How would I know where she is?"

Luna shrugged and said, "I just had a feeling you would know."

"I see…"

Ron began tugging at Luna's sleeve, beckoning her to leave. Luna merely glanced at Ron with inquiry, while Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes irritably. Draco did not say a word to them, for it was really unnecessary. Harry and Hermione wandered to a nearby shop, looking through the windows. Ron, on the other hand, stayed behind with Luna, which Draco found quite odd.

"Anyway," said Luna, gazing over at Harry and Hermione and back again at Draco, "When you see Ginny…"

"I doubt I will," interrupted Draco.

"Luna," said Ron impatiently, grabbing her wrist now. Draco narrowed his eyes at Ron, feeling very annoyed.

"Patience, Weasley," said Draco.

"Shut it, Malfoy," snapped Ron irritably. "C'mon Luna…"

"Oh, all right, Ronald," said Luna, as if she just snapped out of reverie. "Be careful of nargles, Draco!" she added with a smile.

"What?" said Draco, taken aback. "What are nargles?"

"They're in mistletoe…" said Luna seriously, "Happy Christmas!"

With that, Ron and Luna left, joining Harry and Hermione by the nearby shop. Draco frowned after her, still not completely understanding the nargles concept. What bewildered Draco even more was that Ron and Luna were holding hands as they walked with Harry and Hermione, who were standing a friendly distant apart. His frown grew deeper; he never would have guessed that Ron and Luna were going out…

Draco began walking down the snowy paths once again, kicking the snow up as he went. The Three Broomsticks were filled with people, and Madam Rosmerta looked completely exasperated. Draco squeezed himself in there and asked for a butterbeer, throwing the money over the crowd of people. Rosmerta caught it and quickly went away to get his cup. Having nowhere to sit, Draco stood near the bar area, waiting for his drink.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned around to see who it was. It was someone he did not recognize, for their face was hidden under a hood. Draco wondered why no one here found this rather suspicious, but everyone was too busy talking and laughing over their drinks. Draco stared at the hooded person and did not say anything.

"Draco Malfoy?" said the man hoarsely.

"Who are you?" asked Draco.

"Unknown," replied the man quickly.

Draco stiffened. Madam Rosmerta came over with his cup of butterbeer, but Draco paid no attention. He pushed his cup away, his eyes never leaving the man. The chattering around Draco seemingly quieted down in Draco's mind. It was only him and this Unknown.

"Drink your butterbeer, young Malfoy and come with me…" said the Unknown briskly.

Draco pulled the butterbeer toward him again. He brought the cup to his lips but did not drink anything. He set it down on the table and got up.

"I think it's better if we talked outside," said Draco, beckoning the man to follow him through the crowd.

They went outside and went to a fairly empty street. The hooded man looked around him, seeing if anyone could overhear.

"Rumor has it, among the Death Eaters, that you've become quite the blood traitor…" began the Unknown.

"Rumors were never known to be facts," said Draco.

"Blaise Zabini has passed his suspicions to the Dark Lord and your father…" said the Unknown. "The Dark Lord wasn't too convinced the first time, but now he is getting a bit suspicious of your told actions."

Draco gritted his teeth and said, "I've done nothing to betray the Dark Lord."

"Is that so?" asked the Unknown skeptically.

Draco did not reply but glared moodily at the Unknown. The Unknown scoffed lightly and did not speak another word. He reached into his pocket and took out a small vial of clear liquid. Draco immediately recognized it at Veritaserum, but he did not show any expression of surprise.

"I could force feed this to you, or you can tell me the truth," said the Unknown quietly.

Draco shrugged indifferently and said, "You're wasting your time…"

The Unknown began to say something but he stopped immediately. He seemed to stiffen slightly, as he stared forward. Draco turned around and groaned inwardly. Ginny was walking toward them, looking through the shop window. It was apparent that she did not notice Draco and the Unknown standing together, for she began staring into a shop window dreamily. Draco stared at her; somehow, he was unable to take his eyes off of her at that moment.

Her beautiful red hair was down to her shoulders. She wore the Gryffindor scarf around her neck, and a second hand Gryffindor cloak was wrapped around her. Draco wondered why he never noticed that she was rather pretty—for a Weasley, that is.

"You don't _fancy_ her do you?" asked the Unknown in a mocking tone. "Surely not the daughter of the blood traitor?"

Draco tore his eyes away from her and spat, "She has nothing to do with this!"

"You seem concerned for her…" said the Unknown carelessly.

"Why would I hold concern for a Weasley?" snapped Draco.

"How should I know?" retorted the Unknown with a careless shrug. "But anyway, young Malfoy, tell the truth or the consequences will be fatal…"

"And is that a direct message from my father?" said Draco.

"Yes," answered the Unknown "So are you willing to tell the truth?"

"I've been telling the truth this whole time!" snapped Draco.

The Unknown scoffed and said, "Let's hope so." The Unknown put the vial of Vertiaserum in his robe pocket and turned around. "Careful what you drink, Malfoy…anyone can put Vertitaserum in your drink."

"Thanks for the warning," said Draco sarcastically.

The Unknown did not say anything, only laughed a little. He walked up the path of the street and quickly disappeared into a corner. Draco sighed with relief and walked the opposite way, toward Ginny, who was still standing next to the shop window. However, she was frowning at Draco with a look of worry.

"Who was that?" asked Ginny, as Draco passed by her.

"Mind your own business, Weasley," snapped Draco angrily. _Don't get involved._

Ginny frowned deeper and said, "I was just asking…"

"You ask too many things, Weasley," sighed Draco. "Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat?"

However, Ginny wasn't listening. She focused her attention on the shop window again. Draco looked into the window, as well, wondering what she was looking at. To his surprise, there were three sets of necklaces all placed on display. They all looked beautiful but very expensive, as they sparkled under the shop's light. The necklaces didn't look very bulky either, they were simple with a small diamond hanging from it.

Draco smirked and said, "You'd have to starve your family for five years in order to get your hands on one of these…"

Ginny sighed and said, "I know…"

Draco was taken aback with her agreement, for it was meant to insult her. He did not know what to say, so he remained quiet. He could not get a guilty feeling out of his head though, as he looked at the price tag for each necklace. They were all over two hundred Galleons each.

Ginny laughed hollowly and said, "It's a bit silly of me, just gazing at these necklaces...wishing I had one. What would I do with one anyway?"

"Wear it?" suggested Draco, arching an eyebrow.

Ginny rolled her eyes, but a smile remained on her face. She sighed and said, "I know, but it's not like I go to any fancy dinners or anything."

"Well, you don't have to go anywhere fancy to wear one of these…they all look like necklaces you can wear everyday."said Draco before he could even stop himself.

Ginny looked over at Draco with a look of surprise. Draco scolded himself inside his head and mentally slapped himself over and over again. Outwardly, he kept his composure and looked rather indifferent.

"Do you want to walk with me?" asked Ginny timidly.

"Er—I—sure." stammered Draco. Was it even like him to stammer?

They walked to the Shrieking Shack, making little bits of conversation as they went. Ginny sighed as she leaned against the fence next to Draco; the Shrieking Shack was just on the other side of the fence. Draco leaned against the tree and gazed out to the abandoned and supposedly haunted building. He remembered the first time they were here together, and how he debated whether he should comfort her or not. It was during the time when Charlie Weasley was still injured in the hospital. Now, they were standing here—gazing out at the Shrieking Shack, quiet in the each other's presence—together again.

Ginny turned away from the Shrieking Shack and looked at Draco with beaming eyes.

"Christmas is just next week," she said with a smile.

"Heh…yeah," said Draco, not sharing one bit of the enthusiasm.

She looked up at the sky and back at Draco. "What do you want for—" she stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly turning very red.

Draco stared at her with a look of inquiry. She avoided his eyes, and she immediately averted her eyes to the ground. She shuffled her feet nervously and mumbled something quickly. Draco leaned closer to her and asked, "What?"

"Mistletoe," she mumbled.

Draco froze and slowly looked up. There was a mistletoe hanging from the tree he was standing under, and it seemed to mock him as it swung back and forth from the breeze. Draco's mind began racing; this wasn't like him…why was he so strange about kissing Ginny? She's just any other girl Draco has kissed; it's not like she was any different, right?

Ginny bit her lip and said quietly, "We really don't have to…I mean…it's not like…"

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed her shoulders, yanking her toward him. She screamed in surprise, but it was quickly muffled as his lips crashed into hers. He kissed her gently because, in his mind, she was still fragile. What started out as just a simple kiss lasted longer than what Draco would've expected to. In his mind, he kept telling himself to stop kissing her, but he couldn't bring himself to it.

Everything faded away. The war. The Unknown. Blaise Zabini. The risks. The deaths. It was all gone now.

As her shyness wore away, Ginny wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, and his hands slid down from her shoulders to her waist. He drew her closer to him; he felt the warmth of her body against the cold.

_I should stop…_he argued with himself. Why was he getting so attached to her? _This is wrong…_

Reluctantly, he pushed her away, and he could tell that she was reluctant as well. He breathed in the cold air, and everything was set back in place again. Her hands had slid down to his arms, and she reluctantly let go of him. She looked down at the ground, blushing. A part of Draco wanted to kiss her again, wanted to feel her in his arms…

Draco heard a rustle in the trees behind him, and he quickly whipped around with his wand. He squinted his eyes to see if there was anyone there; he was sure he heard some footsteps as well. Ginny giggled behind him, and he turned around.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

She giggled and said, "The way you just take out your wand when you think someone is behind you."

"What's so funny about that?" he said, narrowing his eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed, "I'm just protecting myself."

"Honestly, Draco," said Ginny, rolling her eyes and giggling some more. "You're like a paranoid Auror…like Mad-Eye Moody…"

Draco laughed despite himself. _Let's hope I don't turn out like _him.

Ginny raised an eyebrow and shook her head. She began walking toward the trees, and Draco followed. He looked down at the ground, behind the trees, and found footprints in the snow. Someone was here; and whoever it was, saw them kissing. It was most likely Blaise…

He did not say anything to Ginny, and he continued walking with her until they could see Hogsmeade. She faced him.

She smiled and said, "I promised I'd meet Ron and Luna here…and Harry and Hermione." Draco felt a small stab of annoyance in his stomach, as he heard Potter's name. "I'll see you," she added, looking hopeful. Draco nodded, and she smiled again. He turned around and walked away from her.

After a while of walking, Draco found himself in front of the store where the necklaces were. He peered through the window again. _What am I doing? _he thought, as he walked inside the store…


	11. Feelings

**Disclaimer: **I wish I owned Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:**

_**Misconception**_

**Chapter 11: Feelings**

His trunk was neatly packed and placed upon his bed. Draco sat next to his heavy trunk with a weary sigh. It was the last day before the holidays. The train to take everyone home for holidays was to leave tonight, and that was just half an hour from now. He could hear the muffled noises coming from the common room, as the excited students were getting ready for break. Draco wondered if he could even remember what it felt like to be excited about a holiday. Again, he sighed, reaching into his pocket for a newly purchased pack of cigarettes from Hogsmeade.

The first thing that came to his mind was: _Would Ginny approve of this? _ He wanted to hex himself for thinking something so stupid, but he couldn't help it. Ever since the incident under the mistletoe, he couldn't get his mind off of Ginny. He yearned for her taste and the way he felt when he had her in his arms…

Draco pressed his palms onto his eyes, trying to block out the thought of Ginny. Firmly, he told himself that he was simply confused and delirious. He couldn't possibly have feelings for a Weasley. It just wasn't possible or plausible. He got up and blinked several times to get rid of the colors that were flying to and fro in his vision.

Turning to a side, he found himself facing a long mirror. He stared at his reflection, which determinedly stared back at him in a duplicated confused look. Draco frowned and thought that probably Nargles really did go into his brain when he was under the mistletoe. The reflection's frown grew deeper, and he wondered, "What the hell are Nargles, anyway?"

He turned away from the mirror and shook his head. With an irritable wave of his wand, he levitated his wand to the door, which he swiftly pulled open. The volume of the once muffled noises increased, as he walked down the spiral staircase from his room. The trunk obediently followed behind him. No one took notice of his presence, and he took no notice of theirs.

Without even realizing it, he was already at the Entrance Hall, where many other students, who were going home for the holidays, were already gathered. They were all chatting animatedly with each other, while waiting for the carriages for Hogsmeade train station to be ready. The doors of the Entrance Hall opened, and Filch moodily beckoned the students to go outside to the carriages.

Soon enough, Draco found himself waiting in a train station, once again. He leaned against the stone pillars, hiding in the shadows with a lit cigarette. Again, he became the silhouette of solitude. His thoughts took another deep plunge into despair, and he didn't even know why. Draco already knew what he was supposed to do, but why couldn't he get these bad feelings out of his head.

The others were all huddled together, laughing and looking excited to get home. Draco glared moodily at them, exhaling a great puff of smoke toward them. He looked up at the gray ceiling and then back down again. A cold wind admitted from the train station entrance, which made the students shiver. Draco pulled his thick, black cloak closer toward him.

Inhaling the smoke once again, he felt his stress lessen slightly. He turned his head and exhaled, causing the person standing next to him to cough violently. He was somewhat surprised by the person but was not quick to apologize. It took him a few seconds to fully realize who it was. The red hair, the glare from her brown eyes….it was Ginny.

"I thought you said you were staying here for Christmas," said Draco tonelessly and looking away from her.

"I know," coughed Ginny, "But I just wanted to say 'bye' before you left."

She flushed a little, and Draco found himself feeling slightly uncomfortable. He felt his insides squirm, and the strange feeling he felt whenever he was around her arose again. Ginny brushed a strand of hair away from her face, as she faced him, looking into his eyes. Draco noticed she'd do this when she wanted to search his emotions, most likely his feelings for her…

"Are you sure you didn't come just to snog me?" said Draco in a teasing tone. It meant to come out cold and indifferent, but that did not work out very well.

She gave him a wry smile and said, "Will you owl me during the holidays?"

"And why would I want to do that, Weasley?" said Draco coldly.

Her grin faded away, but the content look in her eyes did not. She was not hurt by the comment, even though Draco felt rather guilty saying it. What was the matter with him? Why was he feeling guilty over the stupidest things?

"Ginny," she corrected quietly.

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "You won't ever give up, will you?"

"Well, I'll owl you," Ginny mumbled, looking down on the ground.

"I won't read them." replied Draco defiantly. "Look, just because I snogged you doesn't mean—."

"We're friends," finished Ginny. "I know."

"I—well—." Stammered Draco, completely taken aback. He was actually thinking they'd be something more than friends…

"Would it kill you to make a new friend?" asked Ginny.

"No, I just don't like Weasleys." said Draco firmly.

Ginny rolled her eyes and said, "There's no need for pretending; well, as your new friend, I'm going to owl you." She smiled brightly, and Draco could not help but to grin a little too.

Ginny stepped closer to Draco, which almost made Draco choke on his smoke. He quickly exhaled to the ground. She sighed and slowly made a move to remove the cigarette from his mouth. He gently pushed her hand away and muttered, "Don't…"

Draco heard a giggle coming from one of the group of students. He looked up to make sure they weren't looking at them. Much to his relief, they were looking the exact opposite way, probably laughing at some joke. Draco grabbed Ginny's wrist and pulled her more into the shadows, so no one would see them.

"What are you doing?" asked Ginny.

"I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea…" muttered Draco.

"Good point," agreed Ginny.

Draco threw his cigarette on the ground, and Ginny stepped on it as she advanced closer toward Draco. Draco's heart began to beat faster. He felt the warmth emitting from her body, as she stood closer to him. Draco was tempted to wrap his arms around her and just hold her…_Wait! What am I thinking! _

She laughed quietly and said, "Sorry, I'm just kind of cold…"

A great gust of wind came as the Hogwarts Express rushed by and came to a stop. Ginny shivered from the wind, as Draco lifted his heavy trunk, ready to board the train. He muttered a 'bye' and prepared to board, but Ginny grabbed his arm. He turned around irritably, but before he could say anything, she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. Draco stood, stunned, for a couple of seconds before registering what she did.

"Happy Christmas, one friend to another!" she said cheerfully.

Before Draco could stop himself, he grabbed Ginny into a close embrace and kissed her on the lips. At first, she was too surprised to do anything, but she returned the kiss gently. No one could see this moment they shared together, because everyone else was too busy boarding the train to notice that they were kissing in the shadows. A secret. His secret. Their secret.

They slowly broke off the kiss and looked into each other's eyes. Draco gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face and gave her a lopsided grin. She smiled at him—there was no blush or feeling of embarrassment anymore.

"Have a good holiday…" Ginny breathed.

"I doubt it," said Draco.

"Are you always this pessimistic?" she mocked with a small smirk.

"Yup," he said. With that, he boarded the train to go back to King's Cross, where an escort would be waiting for him.

(Review please)


	12. The Christmas Ball

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and stuff is not mine.

**Author's Note:** For all of those who have reviewed, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I loved every single one of those reviews, and they really mean a lot to me. I appreciate any type of feedback. They really made my day. And for those you haven't, shame on you. Again, please take just five seconds to type a simple review. I don't know if you guys (who don't review) know how frustrating it is to see the number of hits grow, but not the number of reviews. Make sense?

Anyway, on with the chapter!

**Chapter 12: The Christmas Ball**

Draco awoke with a start in his soft, king-sized bed when he heard a really loud pounding echoing throughout the manor. He rolled to his side and groaned. Attempting to block out the noise, he put a pillow over his head. However, the pounding noise continued loudly, as if shouting at him to get up. It seemed like just an hour ago when he had come home from the train station and when he had kissed Ginny…

Groggily, he got out of his warm bed, meeting the cold air in his room. He shivered a bit, as he walked to his window and pulled away the heavy curtains. A great light shined on his face, and he squinted and blinked several times. Snow was still gently falling to the ground of the vast land where the Malfoy Manor was located. His window faced the side of the mansion, where there was a fountain and a hidden path leading to his mother's garden.

He walked away from the window and quickly got dressed. The pounding noise was now followed by other noises and some random shouts. He frowned in bewilderment, as he opened his door and looked down the hallways that were tiled in marble. His footsteps echoed along with the noise, and after a few doors, he pulled open the one that led to the dining room.

Draco found his mother sitting alone at the end of the long dining table, sipping a cup of tea. She was absorbed in reading the _Daily Prophet_ and did not even look up when Draco arrived. Immediately, a few house elves came in with breakfast and they set the tray next to his mother. She nodded, and they bowed , while walking away backwards. Draco frowned, when she still did not look up to greet him. The pounding noises continued, and he was getting rather frustrated.

"Mother," he began flatly.

"Good morning, Draco," she said, still skimming the articles and sipping her tea.

"Care to explain the noise?" asked Draco, walking toward the end of the table and taking a seat across from her.

Narcissa looked up and shot him an irritable look. "I'm trying to read," she said.

Draco scowled and retorted, "Well, I was trying to sleep."

"Please, Draco," said Narcissa, rolling her blue eyes. "It's for the Christmas Ball. Don't tell me you forgot about that."

"How could I?" muttered Draco, irritably. He reached for her plate of food, seeing that she wasn't going to eat it. She merely glanced at him and continued reading the _Daily Prophet_.

As he began to eat, Narcissa set down the paper with a sigh. She pursed her lips and poured herself more hot tea. There was complete silence between the mother and son, except for the occasional clanking of silverware, and the loud pounding that echoed every once in a while. After stirring her tea, she set down the spoon and looked at Draco with a rare smile. Draco arched an eyebrow and did not say anything.

"So," she said, "The Christmas Ball will be glamorous…they're working on it right now. I expect there will be more than a thousand people coming."

"Right." said Draco, barely listening to what she was saying.

"Are you going to bring a girl, Draco?" asked Narcissa.

Draco looked up from his food and frowned. What kind of question was that? There was no need for him to bring someone to the ball; did it_ require_ a dance, like the Yule Ball?

"Why?" asked Draco.

"Well, who are you going to dance with?" said Narcissa. "Oh, well, I think the Parkinsons will be there. You fancy their daughter, right?"

"That was fourth year, Mother." said Draco through gritted teeth.

"Never mind that, then," said Narcissa, waving it off. "I'm sure you'll meet plenty of lovely girls at the ball."

When Narcissa said "lovely girls", she meant rich and pureblood. Even if Draco _wanted_ to invite Ginny, it was already out of the question. She was pureblood, but she would have, what Narcissa liked to call the Weasleys, "no class whatsoever". Draco scoffed lightly, and Narcissa shot him an angry look.

"Don't laugh, Draco," snapped Narcissa. "It's about time you found yourself a girl, anyway."

"Right," he said, sarcastically, "Because a lot of people get married by the time they're eighteen or nineteen."

"You're seventeen," said Narcissa.

"I know, I am, Mother." Draco said grimly.

A loud pounding followed, as Narcissa glared at Draco. The noise stopped, but Narcissa was still looking at Draco in a dangerous glare. He shrugged and finished off the rest of his breakfast. Refraining from saying something, Narcissa sipped her tea again and pretended to be interested in an article she had already read.

"I already placed an order for your new dress robes, and they should be here by the afternoon." she said, abruptly changing the subject.

"Thanks," muttered Draco.

Right at that moment, the double doors flung open and a very angry Lucius stormed in.

"How is a man supposed to get any sleep with all this damn noise!" he shouted.

Another pounding noise began, and Draco could distinctly hear the workers shouting at each other for doing something wrong. Then, a drilling noise started. Draco wondered why they weren't using magic…

Draco poured himself a cup of tea and pretended he wasn't even there. Lucius was glaring daggers at Narcissa, but she merely looked at him with the utmost indifference. She sniffed and pretended to be in an article, once again.

"I've been working all night, and now I can't get any sleep because of all this-this—God damned noise!" yelled Lucius. "Do you know how tired I am, woman?"

"Calm down, Lucius," said Narcissa coolly. "You'll give yourself a heart attack."

Draco snorted in his tea and quickly choked on his laughter. He bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from laughing at his father's anger that was just about to explode. Lucius was staring at Narcissa incredulously. She got up from her seat and smiled at him.

"Well, I need to check on those workers," said Narcissa. "You get some rest now."

She kissed him on the cheek and swiftly left the dining room. Lucius glared at her retreating back and then shot a glare at Draco.

"You," said Lucius, pointing at his son, "In my office, we still need to talk."

Draco nodded and followed Lucius to his office. On the way there, Draco saw the workers waving their wands and having the tools do the work to their free will. Each pound made his father cringe , which made Draco smirk behind his back. Lucius muttered something about his mother being unreasonable, as they walked down the hallway to his office.

Lucius pushed open the door angrily and seated himself in the armchair, behind his desk. It reminded Draco of when he was in Dumbledore's office, but he noticed that Dumbledore's office was brighter. It also had more strange things in it that were not related to the Dark Arts.

"This is the second time I have heard suspicions from Blaise," began Lucius quietly. He opened his drawer and took out a bottle of whiskey. He began pouring it in a glass cup that he magically conjured. Draco watched the cup slowly fill up with the liquor.

"And?" said Draco, feeling annoyed that he had to be questioned again.

Lucius brought the glass to his lips and then put it down again. He looked at Draco and said, "You have nothing to say for yourself?"

"Nope," said Draco boldly. "I'm telling the truth. If you or the others don't believe me then, tough."

"Watch that attitude, Draco." said Lucius, glaring at him. Draco glared back, feeling his temper rising already.

"Blaise Zabini has done more work than you," continued Lucius, now putting away the bottle of whiskey. "God knows that he deserves the higher rank."

"So I've been told," said Draco coldly, clenching his jaw in anger.

"What have you done, Draco, for the Death Eaters and for the Dark Lord?" asked Lucius. It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but Draco answered it anyway.

"Tortured, killed, and gotten the most useful information for the Death Eaters," spat Draco angrily. "And you know that, _Lucius_."

"Then what are these suspicions of Blaise?" asked Lucius, setting down his glass loudly. "Going into Dumbledore's office, making friends with a Weasley?"

"_What_?" said Draco, looking genuinely outraged. "You think I'd actually befriend a Weasley? Those dirt poor blood traitors? Disgrace to all purebloods? Father, why would I associate myself with such filth?"

Lucius smiled, satisfied. Draco, however, was feeling guilty. Any other time, he wouldn't care how many times he insulted the Weasleys, but this time it was different. As much as Draco would've liked to deny it, the reasons for feeling such guilt all led to Ginny. Why did it always have to be her?

"And, as for going to Dumbledore's office," said Draco, in the same cold manner, "I'm Head Boy, if you haven't noticed."

Lucius opened his mouth to say something, but Draco abruptly cut him off by getting up from his seat. He briskly left the office, feeling his anger seeping. He walked past the workers and looked at their work so far. Even though he was angry and annoyed, he had to admit, they were doing a pretty good job. Narcissa was watching them and instructing them what to do with the place…

A few days later, Draco found himself on the side of their ballroom. A magnificent crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, lighting up the whole room in glamour. There were, indeed, thousands of people at the ball, all dressed up in dress robes and beautiful dresses. All of them were pureblood—or they claimed to be. All of them were wealthy and supported the Dark Lord one way or the other. Not all of them were Death Eaters, but they believed that the Dark Lord had the right thing in mind.

There was a small orchestra playing songs that could barely be heard over the mindless chatter and laughter of the rich and powerful. A large Christmas tree was in the middle of room, decorated in various ornaments of silver and gold. Although it was cold and snowing, they managed to even unfreeze the fountain, at the side of the house. The garden was also green and the flowers, unnaturally in bloom.

Narcissa was standing with a large group of women, a champagne glass in her hand. She stood in an elegant poise that was unlike many other women. She had a sense of dignity that none of them had, and she knew it. Lucius was on the other side of the room, talking seriously to some suspicious looking people.

It was right after the Death Eater meeting, and Draco wasn't exactly in a good mood. The Dark Lord, himself, had confronted Draco with the suspicions. It was a good thing that Draco was also exceptionally good at Occlumency, or he would have seen right through him. He looked mildly convinced, but he was satisfied, nonetheless.

In the meantime, Draco stood idly, wondering when the bloody ball would end. He wished he could just go upstairs to his room and be at peace. However, he was forced to attend by his mother, who had put a little bit too much effort into the ball. Draco found that she puts too much effort in every fancy event she plans.

Draco somehow managed to find his way outside. He stood next to the flowing fountain, thankful that only a few people were out here. He took out his pack of cigarettes from his dress robe pocket and lit one up. He inhaled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. Draco blew out a puff of smoke and looked at the garden that his mother had lit up for the guests to see.

_Sooner or later, they're going to find out what who you're_ really_ working for. _

Draco stuffed his empty hand in his pocket and thought about what he was going to do. However, he found that his mind came to peace when his thoughts wandered to Ginny…Out of all the people, why did it have to be her? Was it because she saved him? Was it because he kissed her? He could not deny the fact that he, indeed, felt something when he kissed her-- Something that was never there when he kissed other girls.

He exhaled another stream of smoke.

"You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?" asked someone from behind.

He turned around with a look of indifference on his face. However, he was somewhat startled by the person who asked the question. It was a beautiful girl, about his age. She had silvery blonde hair, with light blue eyes. She wore an elegant light blue dress, which brought out the color of her eyes even more.

"And you are?" said Draco, keeping his cold indifference.

"Helen Chamberlain," she said.

"Daughter of Richard Chamberlain?" asked Draco.

Richard Chamberlain was one of the richest wizards alive. He was powerful in the Ministry and was almost elected as Minister after the resignation of Cornelius Fudge. However, once authorities learned that he was supportive of the Dark Arts, he was never made Minister in fear that he would bring the Dark Lord to power.

"That's it," she said, smiling.

Draco was about to throw down his half-finished cigarette, until Helen said, "Hey, could I have one?"

Draco immediately put his cigarette back in his mouth and offered her a new one. She lit it up with her wand and inhaled deeply. Draco was half expecting her to start coughing violently, but she didn't. In fact, she was a rather casual smoker.

"So you go to Hogwarts, right?" said Helen, exhaling a white puff of smoke.

"Yeah," answered Draco, flicking the ash off of the end of his cigarette. He held it between his fingers and put it back in his mouth, inhaling once again. "I'm guessing you don't."

"Beauxbatons," she answered with an air of superiority.

"Ah, I see."

"If you ask me, Hogwarts isn't the best school, is it?" she continued, "I mean, I heard they don't even _teach_ you Dark Arts."

Although she was beautiful, with her elegant dress and strikingly stunning eyes, Draco found her superiority slightly annoying. He threw down his cigarette and put it out with his heel. Helen faced him and smiled seductively. Instantly, all the things that annoyed Draco about her seemed to slowly fade away into some distant place.

In the background, Draco could hear a slow, mournful tune coming from a solo violin. Helen averted her eyes to where the music was coming from and then back at Draco.

"Would you like to dance, Draco?" she asked, almost in a purr.

Before Draco could answer, Helen grabbed his wrist and led him to the ballroom, where others had begun dancing as well. Before Helen pulled him into the stance, Draco saw Narcissa eyeing them, positively delighted and beaming. Draco frowned, directing it toward Narcissa, who continued to smile.

"Am I that bad at dancing?" asked Helen, looking up at Draco's frowning face.

Draco looked at her and smiled apologetically. "Oh, sorry. No, I was just thinking about something."

"What's on your mind?" she asked, subtly licking her lips.

Draco frowned slightly at her insinuation and shook his head. They swayed to slow music, and Draco noticed that she seemingly moved closer to him. Draco smirked slightly at this and drew her closer, his hand firmly around her waist. Helen smiled at this; their faces were just a few centimeters apart. The music was slowly dying away, but it then continued with another beautiful song. Her smooth nose touched his, and she laughed quietly.

She drew her lips closer to his, and Draco held his breath. Their lips were just about to meet, when suddenly—

"Ah, Malfoy, I see you've moved on."

It was no other than Blaise Zabini. Helen instantly drew away, startled by the abrupt interruption.

"What do you want?" asked Draco irritably.

"Not with Weasley anymore?" asked Blaise with a wicked glint in his eye.

Draco felt his heart sink. Guilt began to pump through his veins, and he scolded himself for feeling this way. He was growing soft, and it was all because of a bloody Weasley. Draco clenched his jaw and glared at Blaise, who simply smiled.

Blaise smirked at Helen, and she returned a seductive smile. Behind Blaise, Pansy Parkinson was scowling and huffing indignantly. Helen glanced at Pansy with indifference and politely introduced herself.

Blaise kissed her soft hand and said, "Blaise Zabini."

"Pleasure," she said, "And who's your friend?" Helen nodded towards Pansy, who looked absolutely furious.

"Pansy Parkinson," said Blaise carelessly.

"Girlfriend?" asked Helen.

"I guess you can say that," said Blaise with a smirk.

Draco was surprised by Blaise's loyalty to Pansy. Helen looked slightly disappointed but instantly drew her attention to Draco. She put her hand in his, and Draco winced slightly. He felt like every ounce of guilt he could ever feel was just vibrating from her soft hand.

"Enjoy the party," said Blaise, putting his arm around Pansy's waist and walking away.

Draco watched Blaise go with Pansy, and he saw him turn around and smirk at him for the last time. Meanwhile, Helen was still licking her lips, insinuating that something that Draco did not really want to do. She pulled him into another dance, claiming that they were playing her favorite song.

"So," she began with a purr, "What are you doing afterwards?"

"Sleeping," replied Draco, shortly.

She laughed and put her head on his shoulder. "Can I join in?" she whispered in his ear.

Draco stiffened slightly. If this were any other time, he would have gladly given in to such an offer. Except this was not any other time. All the reasons for not wanting to do this all, eventually, led to Ginny. But Helen was beautiful, much more beautiful than any girl he had ever seen. Nevertheless, there was just something about Helen that made him instantly refuse the offer.

"I don't think so, Helen," said Draco flatly.

"Why?" asked Helen, smirking.

Draco chuckled mirthlessly and did not answer. The song slowly ended, and they stopped swaying along to the music. She leaned in again and whispered in his ear, "I don't take 'no' for an answer…"

With that, she kissed him with her soft lips. Draco began returning the kiss, at first, because her lips reminded him of Ginny. However, a few seconds later, he instantly pushed her away. A few people gasped and stared, but Helen only laughed, which made everyone go back to what they were doing.

"Honestly, Draco," she said quietly, "I don't bite."

"I don't care," he snapped.

He turned and walked away from her quickly. To his relief, Helen did not follow, as he ran up the stairs and down the long hallways, passing many doors, to his room. He quickly locked the door with an anti-Alohamora charm.

He breathed heavily from his run and collapsed onto his bed. Out of all the people, all of this was for Ginny bloody Weasley. Draco groaned, sitting up and putting his head in his hands. How did he develop feelings for Ginny? Why did those feelings run deep enough for him to turn down a shameless shag from a stunningly, beautiful and gorgeous girl? All of this was just an infatuation. Draco couldn't even think of a reason why he had feelings for Ginny. Why? Why? Why?

He laid down on his back and began to contemplate this, arguing with himself in his own mind. Without coming to any good conclusions, he drifted to sleep, still in his dress robes.


	13. Right Kind of Wrong

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter and such.** Keep in mind that this is a pre-HBP fic, and there will be little to no references to HBP.  
Author's Note: **I hope you will be happy with this chapter. I tried to make it sound as natural as possible.Sorry, short chapter. **Warning:** FLUFF.

**Chapter 13: Right Kind of Wrong**

A week later, Draco found himself waiting at Platform 9 ¾ , once again. As always, he took the late train back to Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's orders. Christmas had been exceptionally quiet this year, and there was no celebration. His mother had been sleeping the whole day from the sheer exhaustion from the Christmas Eve ball. His father had been out, and Draco did not see him for the whole day.

Draco had hoped that the ball would be the last time he would ever see Helen again. However, a few days later, she had written him an owl, inviting him to another social event that took place the last day of the holidays. Draco blatantly ignored the owl, but Narcissa eventually found out about it.

Now, Draco was here at the train station, exhausted from another stupid ball. He was smoking one of his last cigarettes in the pack, and he was also in a really bad mood. The train pulled up about twenty minutes later.

He could not sleep from the long train ride back to Hogwarts. There was still snow falling outside, and it was freezing in the compartments. It did not improve his mood at all. By the time he arrived at Hogsmeade's train station, it was already midnight.

Draco stepped out of the train, feeling very tired. The snow was falling gently all around him, and he shivered in the cold. He looked at the ground, feeling exhausted and cold. A weary sigh escaped from his lips, and he slowly looked around the train station. Draco expected it to be completely empty as it was silent, but—

"Ginny." he breathed.

Indeed, Ginny was standing a distance in front of him, a shy smile upon her. She walked toward him until she was just a few inches away from him. Her face was flushed from the cold around them, but her smile instantly made the warmth within her ignite. Draco found himself searching for the right words to say, and it was not like him to be speechless. He would have never thought that Ginny would wait at the train station for him, despite the freezing weather. Before he could show any kind of gratitude, Ginny flung her arms around him.

"Welcome back," she whispered into his shoulder.

Draco gently pushed her away and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"To welcome you back," said Ginny brightly.

Draco chuckled slightly and felt a bit uneasy in her presence.

"You waited hours in the cold just to see _me_, Weasley?" said Draco skeptically.

Ginny blinked and said, "Is that so hard to believe?"

It was very hard to believe. In fact, it was just too good to be true. Draco didn't know what to say or do in these situations. He looked at her and drew in a long breath from the cold air.

"It is hard to believe," he said flatly.

There was a look of disappointment in her eyes.

"Well," began Ginny slowly. She pulled out a beautiful necklace from her pocket, and it glimmered. "You really didn't have to, Draco…Ron and Harry got really suspicious about it when they found out…"

"Right," said Draco coldly, annoyed that Potter's name was mentioned. "We wouldn't want our _precious_ Harry to be worried…"

"It's not like that," Ginny explained, quietly.

Draco felt infuriated and swept past her before she could say another word. He spent that much money on her, and he didn't even get a "thanks"? He refused Helen for her (even though he found Helen very aggravating); he spent the rest of the holidays thinking about none other than Ginny Weasley, a filthy blood traitor…

"Draco," she called. He did not turn around; in fact, he could not even explain the sudden anger he felt. Is this what jealousy truly felt like—_this sudden madness_?

Ginny firmly grabbed his wrist and said determinedly, "Let me finish."

Draco turned around and angrily pulled his arm away from her grasp. Before he could even spat something angrily like he had planned to, Ginny's soft lips were on his. The jealousy and the madness went away as quickly as it had occurred. Now he was sure that she was his. There was no doubt in their kiss that what they felt was real. Maybe it was wrong, but at that moment, it felt perfect. The way she ran her fingers through his hair, the way her lips were locked onto his, the way she took every breath away from him—it was all a perfect symmetry.

Between their kisses, Ginny whispered, "I want to be with you, Draco…Not Harry or anyone else…"

Draco stopped, feeling the stinging realization of reality. How could it be? How could their relationship ever last? He also knew the dangers of falling for a Weasley, especially since he was a Malfoy. But why, why, why did he have to have feelings for her? Why did those feelings run deeper as each day passed, as if he had known her for all his life?

"This," muttered Draco, looking away from her. "Ginny, this is wrong…"

Ginny looked at him with determined eyes and said exasperatedly, "Then why does it feel so right?"

She clasped his hands in hers and searched his eyes desperately. Draco found himself thinking about the consequences of their relationship more than the thought that he wanted her more than anything at that moment. Not only would their families be against it, the Death Eaters and the Order alike would also forbid it. How could they have a bond when it is between opposing groups? Although Draco was on the Order's side, he was nothing but a spy, and it would ruin his cover…but he felt that he needed Ginny more than ever, and he didn't even know why…

Draco sighed and said bitterly, "You don't want to be with me, Ginny…"

The snow was slowly falling down, but Draco could not feel the cold anymore. White specks were falling on Ginny's auburn hair, as they were falling onto her eye lashes. She blinked, and Draco saw tears were held back in her eyes.

"But I do," said Ginny earnestly. "Draco, you have no idea how sure I am of this—of us. I know my family and your family won't see eye to eye but—"

"I'd only hurt you." said Draco, tonelessly.

_Don't get involved…You have no idea how much I want to be with you, Ginny. But don't you know what I am? Don't you know what I've done…?_

Ginny laughed hollowly, which Draco took by surprise. She wrapped her arms around Draco and rested her head on his shoulder. Draco did nothing to stop it, for he firmly pulled Ginny closer to him.

"That's all a misconception." she said gently. She looked up at him, and said, "Ever since you saved me from Blaise, I knew…you're not as people say you are…Ever since then, I sort of...fancied you."

Draco smiled wryly and thought, _Does she fancy me only because I played the hero role as Potter once did for her in the Chamber of Secrets?_

He did not say anything, only held her in his arms. She looked down, rested her head against his shoulder and continued, "When we spoke that night and the morning after, I thought I'd continue hating you since you were such a prick…but I found myself fancying you even more…I didn't even know why…And when I saw that you flew at night, I would watch you. I guess you can say that I was a bit obsessed like I was with Harry."

Draco inhaled sharply at the sound of Potter's name, and Ginny giggled. She looked up at him and teased, "Jealous?"

"No," said Draco defiantly and frowning. "I just don't like him."

"Even if that was true--" began Ginny.

"It is!" protested Draco.

She laughed and continued, "Even if that was true, I can assure you that I don't fancy Harry. It's true I've fancied him since first year until…this year—until you."

Draco could feel his heart beating faster. He realized that she was telling him all of this because she was willing to make it work, no matter what. She had given up Potter for _him_, a bloody Malfoy! His heart almost ached with happiness and a feeling that he could not explain. When had anyone cared for him as much as Ginny? Now, in the spur of the moment, he didn't care what the consequences were. All he cared about was being with Ginny because that was all that mattered right now.

Words seemed to fail him. He stroked her hair and moved her face toward his. Gently, he kissed her. And that was his answer.

**(Author's note: **I was a bit worried about this chapter because I didn't know whether I was going too far or not. I thought it would be about time that they got together...so sorry for all the fluffiness amidst the angst. I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are nice!**)  
**


	14. Clandestine

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters. This fic is based on the books **BEFORE HBP**. Therefore, **there will be no references to HBP, unless marked by author. **

**Author's Note: **I'm glad all my fluffiness in the last chapter didn't make any of you gag. Prepare for more! If I don't update soon, it's because I've gone to hell--I mean, school and will be tres tres busy and stressed out.

**Chapter 14: Clandestine**

"You never told me why you didn't owl during Christmas break…"

Draco turned his head, as he inquired this. He saw Ginny look up from her homework that was on her lap thoughtfully, poising the quill in mid sentence. They were sitting back to back on the bench of one of the Quidditch stands. Draco could hardly believe that it had been three months since they confessed their feelings for one another at the train station. Now, the afternoon sun was shining brightly down on them, but they were sure not to be seen by any onlookers.

They had come to the mutual agreement to keep their relationship a secret until the right time. They didn't mind all this secrecy; truth be told, although they never admitted it, they both liked the thrill of sneaking around just to be in each other's arms. It was always worth it. Whenever Draco had had a bad day, he always felt better when Ginny was there, even if it was merely a secret glance between them in the corridors. He felt his whole day light up just for her.

True to the agreement, no one knew about the relationship. If Blaise had known, he would have shot insinuating comments whenever they were in each other's presence. Even Dumbledore, the only person that Draco trusted with his life, did not know of this.

Dumbledore had agreed that there would be no more meetings with him and Draco for the time being, as suspicions were on a dangerous rise. In December, Draco had told all he had learned from the Death Eater meetings to Dumbledore. There was to be another attack in London, near the Muggle Prime Minister. It was stopped by the Order, and only a few Muggles were severely injured. They were promptly sent to St. Mungo's with their memories erased of the events.

Every now and then, the Dark Mark burned, sometimes so severely that Ginny would be startled at his sudden gasps of pain. However, he would make up some excuse, but he knew that Ginny never stopped worrying.

But they were here, together. Both of them were happy and found that the need to be with each other grew stronger everyday…

Ginny giggled, turning her head to reply to Draco, "Honestly, are you still worried about things from three months ago?"

"I waited night and day for those promised owls!" said Draco in a mock of outrage.

"You just thought of it now," said Ginny, laughing. And it was true. It just occurred to Draco now that there had been a little incident before Christmas break, as well… "Well, if you must know," continued Ginny, "I told you how Ron and Harry got really suspicious about the necklace, right? Well, anyway, after Christmas, Ron seemed to monitor me, and I overheard him telling Harry that he'd start monitoring my owls. It was going a bit extreme, if you ask me, over a necklace, and I really didn't believe he would do it. But I thought I wouldn't risk it."

"Your brother is more of a git than I thought," said Draco. "And Potter too…does he _fancy_ you?" asked Draco sharply.

"You'll never stop asking, will you?" said Ginny with a tone of amusement. "I told you before that he doesn't. He's just protective because he's like a brother to me…"

"I don't buy that" said Draco automatically.

Draco could almost see Ginny roll her eyes before she said, "Honestly, I think Harry has something for Hermione anyway. You should see the way he's been looking at her, and she barely notices…"

She sighed, obviously feeling bad for Potter. Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed, muttering with no emotion, "How sad."

"You're heartless." snapped Ginny.

"Get used to it, Weasley." retorted Draco. "I honestly don't care if Potter is having trouble with his love life…especially if it involves Mud—er---Granger."

"You were going to call her 'that'," accused Ginny with a hint of indignation.

"Okay, you caught me," said Draco sarcastically. He heard a huff of annoyance. However, he couldn't help wondering: _weren't Potter and Granger already together…since the first day of school_. He remembered seeing them hug each other. It disgusted him greatly…

Ginny touched the little diamond on her necklace fondly, as she began writing her homework again. Draco looked down on his own homework and began writing as their well established silence began to settle in. For a few minutes, all one could hear was the scratching of quills against parchments and the occasional rustling of the Forbidden Forest's trees.

Draco heard Ginny's quill stop and heard her book slam shut. A sigh came from her, as she got up from the bench and stretched. Draco looked up from his essay that was nearly done and watched her. She was leaning against the wooden railings at the front of the stand and looking out to the lake. Ginny was beautiful in Draco's eyes, and he wondered why he never noticed through all these years…

She turned to Draco with a smile and said, "I have to meet Luna in the library. She needed some help with Potions…I don't know why she didn't ask Hermione…"

She gathered her books and her school bag from the bench. Then, she bent down and gave Draco a quick kiss on the lips, whispering, "See you tonight." Ginny turned to leave but Draco withheld her. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, but Draco only smirked as he drew her closer to him. He kissed her passionately on the lips, and she quickly indulged with a small smile. She dropped her bags and books and sat on his lap, where his work had already slid off.

Ginny planted little kisses on his forehead until finally his lips were on hers again. Whenever they were like this, Draco could feel that their feelings were much stronger than a mere fancy. He had never felt this way with anyone—not with all the other girls he had snogged. But as strong as his feelings were, there was always a sense of guilt at the corner of his heart. It ached whenever he was with Ginny because he hid something from her under their ever growing trust.

Ginny sincerely believed that he was not what people said he was. She trusted him. It frightened Draco to think about what would happen if she found out what he was: a Death Eater. But was his oath to never tell a soul that he was a mole until the end of war worth losing Ginny? Draco didn't know, and he didn't like thinking about it.

He pushed her away and said, "See you…"

She nodded and flung her bag around her shoulder and gathered her books in her arms. With one last smile, she went to the stairs and disappeared out of sight. Draco picked up the fallen parchment and book and went back to work, feeling the stinging guilt come back to him…

What would happen if Ginny found out what he did…? All the killings and tortures; they were all true, but they were only to keep his cover safe. It's not like he did it all personally; he only gave the orders…But wouldn't it be better just to tell Ginny that he was on the Order's side, but he was a mole. But he couldn't….Dumbledore wouldn't allow it…He could trust Ginny with the secret, but there was just a nagging feeling in his mind.

Draco shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He forced himself to concentrate on his homework…

By the time he was done, dinner was about to be served in the Great Hall. The crowds were already gathering and squeezing to get through the doors of the Hall. Draco pushed through the crowds, trying to get to the redhead ahead of him. When he was by Ginny's side, he discreetly brushed his hand on hers. She jumped and when she saw who it was, a smile crept to her lips.

"You're in my way, Weasley," said Draco with a hint of amusement in his gray eyes.

She opened her mouth to retort, but was rudely interrupted.

"Shove off, Malfoy!" said Potter, pushing Draco into a crowd.

Draco watched Potter dangerously, as Potter put his hand on Ginny's wrist, leading her away from him. Jealousy and anger began to boil in his veins, and he felt the need to curse Potter. Most of the students were already in the Great Hall, but Draco stood there like a stone, too angry to move. Ginny gave Draco a helpless look and shook her head, knowing what he was about to do. Draco nodded briefly, swallowing his anger; he quickly went inside the Great Hall and sat at the end of the Slytherin table.

"So how is Helen doing these days?" asked Blaise casually, as he sat across from Draco.

Draco shot Blaise a glare and did not answer. He wasn't even worth his breath, that bastard. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting next to him, too busy eating to say anything. Pansy, who sat across from Goyle, two seats away from Blaise, looked like she had been crying. Blaise followed his eyes and glanced at Pansy carelessly. She sniffed and forced herself to eat. Draco frowned, which made Blaise smirk sadistically.

"You know the drill, Draco," said Blaise with a shrug.

Yes, he knew the drill. He had once lived like that with Zabini. They hold on to a girl long enough, making them believe they loved her. But once they get what they were looking for, they are promptly dumped and forgotten. Draco could not help but to feel sorry for Pansy, who was loyal to any guy who showed her the attention she craved.

"If you're done with Helen," continued Blaise, "Mind if I have her for a bit?"

Draco looked at Blaise with the utmost disgust and said, "You can keep that whore."

There was a sudden and loud scrape of a chair. A few people looked up and saw Pansy, getting up from her seat, and running out of the Great Hall, sobbing. Draco watched her leave and also caught Ginny's glance in the process. She frowned questioningly, but he only shook his head.

"I'm surprised the Dark Lord didn't kill you over break…" said Blaise, as if nothing had happened.

"If you want me dead, then just do it," snapped Draco, angrily, "Don't just talk about it."

However, both their voices were low, so no one could hear them.

Blaise merely scoffed and picked at the food with his fork. "I almost had you dead, Malfoy. You were at my mercy…until that Weasley bitch came, meddling into other people's business."

Draco glared at Blaise and got up from his chair, leaving the Great Hall. He waited a few feet away from the Great Hall for Ginny, who followed ten minutes later. They quickly and quietly went outside. They did not speak to each other until they were far from the castle, far from prying eyes and ears.

"I'm really sorry about Harry," said Ginny finally.

Draco waved it off, pulling her forward into a close embrace and then a gentle kiss. They walked, hand-in-hand, toward the Quidditch field and up to one of the stands. They sat next to each other. Ginny's head rested on his shoulder and his head rested on the side of her head…Neither of them spoke for a moment, but only enjoyed the company of the other.

"By the way," said Ginny, facing Draco. "Who's Helen?"

Draco felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he turned pale. He swallowed the lump in his throat, and he found his mouth unusually dry. Draco knew he had no reason to feel uneasy, because he didn't do anything with Helen. But if Helen was trying to interfere, which he knew she would…

"How do you know about her?" asked Draco, finally.

She shrugged and said, "I overheard Blaise talking in the library about her and how he'd have her if she wasn't clung on to you…"

There was no jealousy in her voice, but Draco could tell that she was hiding it. How was Helen clung on to him? He hadn't seen her for three months; so she fancied him then? No doubt Blaise and his father had visited the Chamberlains these past three months to make business deals…

"She's the daughter of Richard Chamberlain," he said.

When he saw Ginny frown, Draco knew that she had no idea who the Chamberlains were. For a moment, he couldn't help but to feel scorn for her family and how poor they were. However, he quickly felt bad for thinking so and pulled her closer to him.

"She's not important," murmured Draco, slowly kissing her neck.

"Is she pretty?" asked Ginny, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice.

"Oh _God_, Weasley…" said Draco, trying not to laugh. This was the first time that Ginny had ever shown jealousy, since Draco was the one always snapping about Potter. Draco found it oddly comforting.

"Well, did anything happen between you two?" asked Ginny suspiciously.

"No," said Draco firmly.

She did not say anything, only looked away from Draco. Ginny did not seem satisfied with his answer.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" said Ginny quietly. "And she's rich…" She scoffed and added disdainfully, "And_ me_, what have I got?"

Draco smiled weakly, not knowing what to say to comfort her. She was all of a sudden feeling insecure because she felt she could not live up to what Helen was. It's true, Helen was beautiful, possibly even more than that, and she wasn't even a veela. However, Draco found Ginny a hundred times the girl that Helen could ever be. It didn't matter how poor she was; in fact, Draco barely gave it a thought. He brought her face to his and kissed her gently on the lips. Then, he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"Trust me, Ginny," whispered Draco. "You're more beautiful than Helen could ever be, and you'll never lose me to her…"

(A/N: Hey, maybe if you give me a review, I will try to update faster!)


	15. Infiltrate

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Harry Potter. No, I don't make bajillions of dollars of this either**. This is PRE HBP! NO HBP IN THIS FIC!**

**Author's Note:** Woah. Sorry about the delay. You know how school is. Yeah, yeah. Read, review, be nice, or be mean. I don't know. It's better to be nice because then I'll write more!

**Chapter 15: Infiltrate**

Draco slowly crept out of his bed, gently taking Ginny's head off of his arm. She did not stir at all when Draco gently kissed her on the cheek. It was two hours before sunrise, and Draco was to report to Dumbledore's office at this hour. Even though Blaise had stopped tail gaiting Draco since Christmas, they still took all precautions not to be seen.

As Draco quickly changed into his school robes, he looked at Ginny, who was still soundly asleep. He felt a great swell of affection inside his heart; they had now been together for six months. Their relationship was still a secret, although some had had suspicions with all the sneaking around. But they always managed to get out of it with whatever lies or excuse they told. Draco had given her the Slytherin password, and the password to his room, so she could sneak in whenever she wanted to.

They never_ did_ anything; they only came close to it once. Ginny had been embarrassed and stammered incoherently, but Draco understood that she wasn't ready. He did not push her to do something that she was unwilling to do, and she had been grateful to that. Draco's feelings for her were stronger than ever, and he found himself willing to do anything for her. It was like he changed into a completely different person just for her. But when he was around others, he was still the same cold, sadistic, and sarcastic Draco Malfoy.

He felt that his heart could burst with all that he felt for her. A couple of times, Draco wanted to say the three words but could not bring himself to it. She always said the things he wanted to hear the most, understood him more than anyone, and cherished him. Draco probably knew all there needed to know about her, and he wished deeply that he knew everything about him…Several times, he wanted to, but like the three words, he could not bring himself to it. It was mostly because Dumbledore's warning would ring inside his head clearly: _Never give away your position, Draco…it doesn't matter how much you trust them or how bad the situation may be…_

Draco found himself in front of Dumbledore's office door. With a long intake of breath, he knocked on the door three times.

"Come in," said a muffled voice from inside.

Draco pulled open the door and stepped inside the familiar office, filled with paintings of former, sleeping headmasters. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk with a smile, and he motioned Draco to sit down.

"I'm sorry that you had to wake so early," Dumbledore apologized with a bow of his head.

"It's okay," said Draco, "I've been getting good sleep these past few months anyway," he added with a rare smile.

Dumbledore smiled as well, but he looked weary.

"I'm afraid Hogwarts is in danger…" said Dumbledore gravely, "There were two murders in Hogsmeade already, and I have thus cancelled all Hogsmeade weekends…"

"The Death Eaters can't get into Hogswarts though, right?" said Draco, half assuring himself. "This castle has every security spell known."

"True," said Dumbledore, "But the parents of students are absolutely hysterical…and I suspect Blaise Zabini is working a way to let the Death Eaters raid the castle."

"Can't you expel him?" asked Draco hopefully.

"There is no evidence that Blaise is really up to something…"

"Of course he's up to something," said Draco firmly, "He's been wanting a higher rank as Death Eater since who knows how long…he'll do anything to get the Dark Lord's favor, even trying to rat me out…"

Dumbledore did not say anything. Finally he said, "Do you mind skipping the last few weeks of school? I daresay that you have nothing more to do, since your N.E.W.T.s are done with…you'll only miss the graduation ceremony…"

Draco didn't know what to say. He didn't mind missing the graduation ceremony, but how would he explain his absence to Ginny? He frowned at this, trying to think of a good excuse.

"But…where are you sending me?" asked Draco. "Wouldn't the others get suspicious?"

By others, he meant the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord.

"No, I don't think they would, since I know your father would want you to be there anyway." answered Dumbledore, lightly.

"Where?" repeated Draco.

"Back to the Death Eaters and Voldemort," said Dumbledore.

Draco frowned and opened his mouth in protest, but Dumbledore raised a hand and spoke, "This war has become more violent within a year, and all we can do now is fight. Draco, I want you to fight on the Death Eaters' side, act as natural as possible. However, avoid killing members of the Order…"

"What—I don't understand…" said Draco, confused.

"I want you to stay with the Death Eaters and go to wherever you are stationed to," said Dumbledore. "And you _must_ provide as much information to me as possible, as discreetly as possible."

No. He could not do this, not now, not when he had Ginny. How could he just leave her? He couldn't….But how could he tell Dumbledore this? Draco knew he had to fulfill the duty he signed up for, and he knew he had to stay true to the oath he took. As a secret member of the Order, and as a high ranked Death Eater…he had to do this for the war…

"And I will be gone for as long as this war lasts?" said Draco quietly.

"I'm afraid so, and only we can correspond," said Dumbledore. "And you must not be in contact with any other students of Hogwarts, for it will only raise suspicions."

"I—." Draco began and then swallowed the lump. "What is my reason to leave, if they…ask" His voice cracked at the end of the sentence, and he quickly cleared his throat.

The world of happiness he had built during the six months with Ginny seemed to shatter before his own eyes. Was his duty more important than this? Draco could not imagine living without Ginny…She would think that he was all evil, that he had tricked her. No, he couldn't live with that. If the war lasted years, she would probably move on, and he would still be just a Death Eater in her eyes…Until war's end, she would never know that he had been working for the Order, for Dumbledore….By then, it would probably be too late….The thought of these consequences caused a lump in Draco's throat and a sorrow that he never thought he could feel…

"Malfoy..." sighed Dumbledore.

"I can't do that—" said Draco, trying to keep his voice steady.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, unable to say anything. Draco tried to close his mind of all thoughts, afraid that Dumbledore might be trying to penetrate inside them.

Too late. Dumbledore bluntly said, "You do not wish to leave Miss Weasley, then?"

Draco did not say anything, nor did he ask Dumbledore how he knew. Dumbledore had already penetrated his mind, and he knew everything. Draco could not help but to feel a little ashamed.

"I can't just leave her." Draco said finally, after a long lasp of silence. A sorrow and despair he never felt before rushed into him. It was worse than thinking he could not get out of the war alive…it was worse than the pain of the Cruciatus Curse…

"I'm sorry, Draco," said Dumbledore gently. "But this must be done…No other spies are in such a high ranked position as a Death Eater. You are the only one who will know all the top plans…"

"If I could just tell her--"

"No," said Dumbledore sharply, but then softened. "No, as I said before Draco, you must not tell anyone. You are under oath and with the spells that bind to that oath, you are not able to tell anyone unless I, myself, have died because I am the one who swore you in."

When Draco did not say anything, Dumbledore sighed and said, "I told you on the first day, _never_ to get close to someone…it would only hurt you, young Malfoy."

"I love her," whispered Draco, finally after a long silence.

"If you do, Draco," said Dumbledore in the gentlest way, "then do this for her. If the Order has you as spy, we can always be one step ahead of Voldemort, like we have been this year. Draco, don't you realize? Because of you, we are winning this war. Before you joined, we had no hope left! But a few months after you joined us…the tables began to turn.

"I understand what you may be feeling right now, but these sacrifices must be made. And when we have triumphed and Miss Weasley hears that you were aiding us, she will surely forgive you…"

Draco felt a little comfort from these words of wisdom, and he knew that it was true. However, his selfishness, his own wanting to be with Ginny rebelled against it.

"I don't want---No, I can't do this!" said Draco, leaping up to his feet in rage. He stormed to door, but he found it locked. Dumbledore was not going to give up. Draco breathed in deeply, trying to control his anger…

_This man…he's trying to take the only good thing that's ever happened to me…  
_

He whirled around and faced Dumbledore, who sat calmly at his desk. However, he could catch the pity in the headmaster's eyes. He trusted this old man with his very life, but why did he have to make things so hard on him? Why did he have to take away Ginny, who was the only person dear to him…He felt his head spinning, his heart aching…

"I CAN'T JUST LEAVE HER!" shouted Draco, unable to contain himself. "_I love her_! And she deserves to know the truth…she deserves to know who I really am! I can't bear…" he felt himself choke, the lump in his throat growing… "I can't bear to think…that she'll hate me…"

He felt his vision blur with tears, but he furiously wiped them away. Suddenly, he felt a dizzying spell wash over him. He felt weak, knowing that he would not have Ginny there anymore to be by his side. He slid to the ground and buried his face in his hands, unable to face the cruel reality.

Draco was shaking uncontrollably, and he felt the headmaster's hand on his shoulder, patting him comfortingly.He drew in shaky breaths and could not bring himself to look at Dumbledore, who had crouched beside him.

"Draco, stand up," said Dumbledore in a gentle, but commanding voice. The headmaster helped him to his feet and led him to the chair, where Draco slumped down on lifelessly.

Dumbledore did not say a word until he was calmer. Dumbledore sighed and began.

"I know this is very hard for you…"

"No, you don't." Draco heard himself saying defiantly. "You don't know _what_ I'm feeling right now."

"You're being foolish, Draco," said Dumbledore sternly.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, and Draco could see that he felt sympathy for him. The headmaster looked tired, like he hadn't slept for days. When he opened his eyes again, Draco could see that something within Dumbledore had died. A weak fire that had been blown out, and Draco knew that he was being selfish…

"You were never supposed to attach yourself to someone," said Dumbledore with a weary sigh. "I feared this would come…but you must do this. Remember, you volunteered for this…you are sworn to the Order, _bound_ by a magical contract. The only way to get out of the contract is by death or through me, your Secret Keeper. You have no other choice. If you do this, Malfoy, you can keep many of the Order members' lives. Members of the Order include all of Ginny's family…

"Young Weasley loves her family dearly, and she would be devastated if anything should happen to them. You saw how dreadful she was when her brother Charlie had been injured by Blaise…"

Draco nodded, remembering how he had prevented her from lashing out at Blaise and held her firmly in his arms while she cried for her brother. Was he truly doing this for her, then?

"We can protect Miss Weasley, as well…" said Dumbledore quietly.

"And what am I supposed to say to her?" asked Draco raising his head, looking haggard.

"It's better that she hears where you are going from you than from others…"

(**A/N: **Alright, I probably went a bit overboard with the emotions. BUT I hope you don't hate me too much. I felt it was sufficient…)


	16. Untrustworthy

**_Misconception_**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/materials. Everything is** Pre-HBP!**

**Author's Note: **_Wow. I am very, very sorry for taking a million years to update. School has been sucking away my life, and I am extremely nerd status. I hope you understand. But hey! GoF is coming out soon..everyone excited! I am.So I figured I'd start going really fast with this story, but I'll cover all the good stuff. I'm thinking this story will be at least 35 chapters (seeing that my chapters are rather short…) I WILL finish this story. I promise! Before the 7th book comes out! Haha. Okay, I'll stop..No one reads these things anyway. Or do they?_

**Chapter 16: Untrustworthy**

When Draco went inside his room, Ginny was still curled up in sleep. He felt his heart ache at the sight of her—beautiful and peaceful. The door quietly closed behind him, and Draco lied beside Ginny, stroking her silky hair. She subconsciously snuggled close to him, a small smile on her lips. Draco gently kissed them and felt that he could just die from the anguish he was feeling. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Draco looking at her. She smiled.

"Good m-m-morning…" she said with a stifling yawn.

"Morning, Weasley," said Draco quietly, smiling uneasily at her.

She looked at him, frowning at his robes. "How long have you been up?" Ginny asked, looking at the clock nearby.

"Not long," lied Draco, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Ginny frowned even more, noticing that he was shaking. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're shaking--are you feeling all right? Do you need to Madam Pomfrey?"

"Oh," said Draco. "It's--nothing."

Ginny, though still unconvinced, did not ask anymore. She was used to short and rather meaningless answers from Draco, it was just part of his personality. With a nervous smile, she went inside the bathroom to change, while Draco sat on his bed and thought of what he would say. He felt weak, like a huge chunk of him had gone missing. Was he really stupid enough to think happiness would last with him? Draco was not Harry Potter--he didn't deserve happiness.

Dumbledore's words rang inside his head, almost commanding him to get it over and done with. After he had gone out of Dumbledore's office, he went outside and sat near the lake, chain-smoked one whole pack. It was over.

Ginny came out of the closet in her school robes, and she was struggling to put on the necklace. Draco got up from the bed and helped her with the necklace.

"Thanks," she said.

Draco didn't say anything.

Ginny frowned but did not inquire anything. She got her bag, as did Draco and they both crept down the stairs to the Slytherin common room. Thankfully, no one was there and they hurried out of the room, into the dark corridors of the dungeons. When they were far from anybody hearing them, Draco stopped her.

"Ginny," he said quietly, "We…we need to talk about something. Let's go outside."

"Okay," she said, her eyes looking fearful.

They went outside, silently. Her hand did not reach for Draco's like usual, and Draco knew that she knew something was wrong. He felt his heart breaking already, and he swallowed the great lump in his throat. Draco led them far from the castle, where no one could see or hear them, by the lake. Draco made sure that they were even far away from Hagrid's hut, so the giant would not be able to hear them…

Draco sighed and looked out into the lake, seeing the sun was already half raised. Ginny looked apprehensively at Draco, biting her bottom lip in nervousness. He shoved his hands in his pockets and inhaled a shaky breath.

"Ginny…" his voice cracked. Draco swallowed, fearing that he might break down again. No, he must not let her see…

"Draco, what's wrong?" she asked gently, putting a hand on his arm. He flinched at her touch and quickly drew away, alarming Ginny. Draco could not bear her touch…

"I don't know how to say this," said Draco, trying to keep his voice even. "I have to go." Ginny frowned, not understanding. She began to speak, but Draco interrupted. "To war."

"What?" Ginny did a double take and opened her mouth soundlessly. "What?" she repeated.

"This has to end, Ginny," said Draco, after a bit of struggle, but with clear control. "I can't—" Draco stopped and closed his eyes.

"You can't what?" said Ginny, her voice cracking.

He opened his eyes and saw her eyes already watering. Why did she have to cry? If only she could understand that it wasn't his choice...it really wasn't...

"You're fighting then?" she said regaining a calm tone that almost killed Draco. "For which side?"

"Not for the Order," said Draco, shaking his head.

Ginny looked horrified and lost all calmness. "Draco if your father is making you do this, and you don't want to…then don't! Go to Dumbledore, he'll help—"

"No, he won't." said Draco dully.

"Of course he will!" exclaimed Ginny, clutching his hand. "Oh, Draco, you can't fight for the Death Eaters…it's the wrong side…And I know, you're good…and Dumbledore will know too that you don't belong with the Death Eaters. If you're worried that the Order won't accept you…Dumbledore will!"

Draco took his hand away from hers and hissed, "Listen to me!" He felt a stab of bitterness each time he heard it, and he knew he shouldn't have taken it out on Ginny. Shaking his head, he sighed and whispered, "You don't know what I've done…"

"You haven't done anything!" said Ginny exasperatedly. "Draco, please stop listening to what other people are saying about you at Hogwarts—they don't know you like I know you…they don't care for you like I do…"

"You don't _know _me, Ginny," said Draco coldly.

Tears began streaming down her face. She looked away from Draco and choked out, "Draco, you just can't! This is the Dark Lord, we're talking about! Tom Rid--" She stopped, unable to continue.

"Ginny, this is why you should have never gotten involved with me," said Draco, harsher than he had expected. "I told you I'd only hurt you."

"I love you," she whispered.

Draco felt his heart stop. For a moment, he felt nothing but happiness and he just wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. However, when the moment passed, he felt his heart breaking even more. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. This had to end. It _will_ end. This is over.

"No, you don't," said Draco, "You only think you do."

"I do, Draco!" she said earnestly, tears pouring from her eyes. "What can I do to prove it to you?"

"Stop it, Ginny," said Draco weakly, feeling his knees give away. His voice was cold and commanding, but he could feel his insides writhing in pain. Tears began blurring his vision, and he furiously blinked them back.

"I love you, Draco," she repeated. "Why can't you see that?"

Draco buried his face in his hand, not wanting her to see the tears. His heart was shattering, and it was so painful. His body began shaking with sadness, but he wiped away the tears quickly. He breathed, shakily and trembled as his hand moved to the sleeve of his arm.

Ginny watched him in bewilderment, but he did not saying anything. He rolled the sleeve up slowly, feeling his heart pounding loudly. He put his hand over his forearm and looked at Ginny, who only looked back with a slight frown. He took his hand off and revealed the Dark Mark, etched into his arm.

Ginny let out a small scream of terror and jumped back fearfully. She stared at the mark on his arm. The alpenglow of the sunrise made the Dark Mark seem like it was on fire—the very resonance of Hell. Ginny began sobbed quietly. Her whole body shook…trembled…as the reality began to sink into her, burn into her. Draco stood there, feeling numb and dizzy. He saw the fear in her eyes; she feared him, and she would surely hate him now. He felt someone had cut open his chest and taken out his heart; it killed him to see her like this.

"_I trusted you_!" she said, angrily.

Draco swallowed down a lump in his throat. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. _He let the dark, sadistic side of himself take over; he managed a small smirk, as he let the sleeve of his robe fall to cover his shame.

"All the things they've ever said about you…were they true?" she asked.

He shrugged and said, "Guess so." Draco determinedly stared at the ground and appeared to be indifferent.

"Don't start that!" said Ginny angrily through her tears. "God, don't you dare start acting like you don't give a damn."

"What do you want me to say, then Weasley?" said Draco, slightly raising his voice and spreading out his arms exasperatedly.

"I want you to say that you care about me…God forbid, even love me…" said Ginny, looking away sadly.

Draco didn't say anything. There was a long, deafening silence.

"Forget about me, Weasley," he said, keeping his voice even and clear. He laughed and said bitterly, "Maybe you can even team up with Potter one day and chuck me in Azkaban."

"It's always Harry, isn't it?" snapped Ginny. "Merlin, Draco…is there no one else? Michael Corner…Dean Thomas? Always Potter this, Potter that!"

"What's your point?" said Draco, feeling his temper rising.

"If you didn't care, you wouldn't have mentioned Harry!" said Ginny, almost exasperatedly, desperately. "Draco, I may not know everything little thing about you…but…I know you do care…"

There was a pause.

"I _don't _care." Draco said scathingly. He looked away from Ginny and bit his lip.

Another pause.

"I just want to know why you even bothered…" whispered Ginny, almost choking on her tears. "If you never cared, why did you save me from Blaise? Why did you stay with me on the Quidditch stands that night? Why did you kiss me under the mistletoe? Why did you buy me this necklace? Why were you willing to spend six months—"

"Shut up!" shouted Draco. Ginny winced and bit her lip to hold back a sob. "Don't you understand, Weasley! I can't be with you!"

He fought the urge to tell her exactly why. However, he shook his head and turned from her. Draco felt her eyes on his retreating back, and he found himself picking up his pace. For several minutes, he was listening for her footsteps that would run after him to try and stop him. None came—only the haunting echo of her voice followed, and it would follow Draco forever.

* * *

Draco decided that he hated train stations. There was always a cold and foreboding quality that emitted from train stations. The one in Hogsmeade wasn't any better than Platform 9 ¾ . Although the air was warm with summer, he felt cold. His whole body was shaking from heartbreak, shock, misery…Nothing winsome ever happened at train stations. He was always coming back from a horrible Death Eater's deed or leaving behind someone… 

He wondered what she was doing right now. The scene from yesterday morning played over and over again in his head. Draco regretted the last thing he said to her, but it was the only way. Shaking, he lit up a cigarette with much difficulty. After six months of not smoking, he felt almost awkward, smoking again.

"I thought you quit."

His heart skipped a beat. Was it--? Before he could even think her name, he threw down the cigarette and whipped around.

"Ginny, I—" He stopped. The elated feeling disappeared as soon as it came. Draco found himself face to face with Luna Lovegood.

She cocked her head to the side and observed Draco for a moment. The glow that he had always seen in Luna was gone; she did not greet him with an enthusiastic smile. On the contrary, she held a lopsided grin—almost a smirk—and merely said, "Hello."

"Hello Lovegood." Draco replied dully, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

"I see you're packed," said Luna, nodding toward his trunk. "School's not over yet…"

"What do you want?" snapped Draco, glaring at her.

"You thought I was Ginny." For the first time ever, Draco thought her voice was monotone. "You two have been together…"

"Yeah, all right, tell her brother. I could care less." Draco said, fighting the urge to blow a ring of smoke in her face.

"No, I won't tell Ron…" Luna said, shaking her head. "I just wanted to ask you why you're leaving her."

Draco did not say anything. He continued smoking, as if he didn't hear a word she said.

"She's locked herself in her room, you know." said Luna, as if she were talking about the weather. "Crying and refusing to talk about it with anyone."

Draco closed his eyes, feeling the void in him grow bigger and bigger. There were no words to describe the pain he felt for her. Much restraint rooted him to the spot, so he would not run back to her.

"She has Potter." Draco said firmly._ Potter's always there for anyone…he'll help her…won't he?_

"You're just going to leave her, then?" said Luna. "You can't—"

"Look," interjected Draco, "I don't know how you found out about—us, but it's really none of your concern if I leave her or not."

Luna opened her mouth but closed it again. She sighed and looked at the empty tracks of the train station.

"When I said you weren't alone, I meant it…" she said quietly, "You're not alone."

"I am now." Draco said bitterly.

Luna shook her head and said, "No, you aren't. Ginny still loves you, and she will no matter what happens…And I…" She trailed off and hesitated. "I—I'll always be there for you too."

Draco looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. He opened his mouth, but words failed him. She nodded, as if understanding that he did not know what to say. She smiled sadly, torn between the want to say more and the compulsion to go back to Ron. There became a greater understanding between the two, although Draco couldn't find the right words to say.

"These past six months, I've never seen you or Ginny so happy." Luna said, almost with a small hint of envy.

"What about Weasley?" asked Draco.

"Ron? Oh, I love Ron…" said Luna, using the dreamy voice he knew so well. She sighed dreamily and said, "I just have a feeling he doesn't feel the same about me."

Draco opened his mouth to ask why, but he was interrupted by the oncoming train. It clanked quickly onto the tracks and came to a hissing stop. Draco felt his stomach tighten, breath constricted. This was it. He looked at Luna and nodded a farewell. He began to drag his trunk toward the train, when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned around, with a frown of bewilderment. Before he could do or say anything, Luna flung her arms around him and hugged him. He staggered and a few seconds passed before he could register what had happened.

"Come back," she whispered into his ear. "For Ginny…"

"And for you?" He said before he could stop himself. Draco faced her, but she only smiled and shook her head. Without another word, she walked away, leaving Draco staring after her.

He was grateful for Luna coming to see him at the last minute. However, he couldn't help but to wish that had been Ginny. Everything was going to change now. With one last look around him, he picked up his trunk and walked toward the train.

(A/N: Sorry this was a bad chapter, but I just really wanted to get this through so I can got on to the main point, and wrap all the random stuff in the beginning up! Review, rant, whatever.)


	17. Ave Maria

_**Misconception**_

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all related characters and materials belong to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.

Oh, and I don't own one line from _The Kite Runner_ that so happens to appear in this chapter. It's about sociopaths. I altered some words of it, but it's basically the same idea, so I won't take credit for it. That one line belongs to the great writer, Khaled Hosseini.

**Author's Note:** Well, I've received many lovely reviews telling me to update. I hope you all received my response. But if you didn't, let me apologize once again. I'm really sorry for not updating in such a long time, but you have to understand how stressful school is. My literature class has been giving me the most stress. He is Hitler and probably part of the Devil.

Actually, I tried to update before this but was being the biggest butt in the world and would not let me upload.

And if I don't update for a long time again, read _The Kite Runner_ by Khaled Hosseini. It's an _amazing_ novel. 20394812348 times better than my crap. Seriously.

**Chapter 17: Ave Maria**

Echoes of laughter resonated in the dark ballroom, where the violin stopped playing and the chandelier dimmed its beauty. Women with rich dresses and sparkling diamonds around their necks slowly walked across the marble floor, whispering softly to each other with a cruel laughter in them. Among those women, Helen Chamberlain stood with a sense of dignity that the other women lacked. If one did not know the Chamberlains, one could easily mistake her as the daughter of Narcissa Malfoy, who also had a proud disposition about her.

Draco Malfoy watched these women from afar, smoking his last cigarette and drinking the last drop in his cup; his eyes began to blur with intoxication. Helen caught his eye and smiled—something which Draco did not return. He merely stared at her coldly and continued drinking. Her smile faltered a bit, but she determinedly glared back at him. In an air of superiority, she turned her back to him. Draco scoffed. Helen was seething in anger.

He was replaying the conversation Dumbledore and he had just earlier that night…

_"We can't be meeting like this anymore."_

_The old headmaster nodded in agreement, as the young man said this. From the man's perspective, Dumbledore was getting older each time he saw him. The twinkle in his eyes had been gone for the longest time, and the little jokes he placed in their old conversations soon died away. Matters were getting serious, and sacrifices had to be made. The mole did not have any use to the Order anymore, for everything was all up to Harry Potter. Only he had the power to destroy the Dark Lord. _

_Dumbledore inclined his head and spoke hoarsely, "Another five months, Draco, you will end your services to the Death Eaters. You will no longer be a spy, but a true member for the Order."_

_"And get out of this shit hole?" said Draco lightly with a raised eyebrow and a trademark smirk. "Yeah, right. You said that a year ago, and I'm still here."_

_"The events that occurred were not predicted, and these things were inevitable…" explained Dumbledore wearily. _

_"I was only joking." Draco said, almost rolling his eyes. _

_Dumbledore nodded silently and sighed. He looked forlorn and tired. _

_"No matter what happens, always be on your guard." Dumbledore said. _

_Draco looked at him suspiciously and said slowly, "What's going to happen?"_

_Dumbledore did not reply. He smiled, but the smile did not reach his once-twinkling eyes. The old headmaster shook his head and said, "I cannot predict the future."_

_Draco could tell that Dumbledore was hiding something from him, but he did not press on—_

_"But I can assure you that this will end soon, and you will be recognized as a member of the Order—a true Auror…"_

_"That doesn't matter to me," said Draco more harshly than he intended to. "I just want out. I don't want any gold medals or people admiring all the noble things I've done. I'm not Potter."_

_"I promise you, Draco," said Dumbledore earnestly, "This will end soon, and you will be out of it."_

Dumbledore's promise did not make him feel any better or lift any unease from his heavy heart. The violin held out a slow and sorrowful tune that tugged at Draco's heart strings. It reminded him of the pretty red-haired girl whom he loved dearly, the girl he would have to live without for the rest of his life.

How many days has it been? How many weeks? How many months? How many years? A lifetime has passed since their first kiss at the train station. A lifetime has passed since he saw her beautiful face.

It had been too long.

"Draco, dearest," came a purr. "Don't you think you've had enough for tonight?"

"Not really, no." muttered Draco angrily. He took another drink just to spite Helen. She fumed, and he smirked. It was almost too easy to anger her.

She abruptly took the glass away from him and shattered it against the floor. Narcissa looked over at the young "couple", her eyebrows furrowed in the utmost concern. The other women looked over at them as well, whispering quietly to one another.

"Fight—."

"—again…"

". . . not a healthy couple. . . "

"Narcissa, you should really reconsider . . . "

"…most powerful union…"

"—surely just young love…"

"Highly doubtful of that . . . "

Helen closed her eyes irritably and breathed slowly. She opened her eyes once again—they were filled with blue flames.

"You're an embarrassment," she hissed, "to me and to your mother."

"Really?" Draco said, with a slight slur. "I'm quite sure you're the one that's embarrassing yourself. Can't you see those poor old ladies you've just frightened?"

"Shut up!" she snapped angrily. "I can't believe you!"

Draco chuckled and stood up, standing just mere inches away from Helen. She did not back down, as most women would over Draco's intimidation. He patted her on the shoulder like he would to a dog and brushed past her.

"Is this how it's going to be, Draco?" she asked furiously, advancing toward him once again.

"Here's an idea I've suggested more than once," said Draco, slowly pushing her away. "Stay away from me."

"You know very well I can't."

"Last time I checked, we weren't bound by any magical contract. Don't you have someone else to follow around?" Draco remarked thoughtfully.

"Don't be stupid, Draco!" said Helen, stomping her foot. It reminded Draco of the child he saw at Diagon Alley when her parents refused her to buy her an ice cream cone. He chuckled at this, which made Helen angrier. "What is so goddamn funny?" she snapped.

"You are, my dear." Draco was always too blunt. He patted her again and walked out of the ballroom.

Helen, persistent and stubborn, followed him out of the ballroom. Even the small octet stopped playing and stared after the two young couple in astonishment. Narcissa shooed the remaining ladies away—it's almost midnight and there's absolutely nothing to see here anymore.

"Don't you _dare_ walk away from me, Draco Malfoy." Helen screamed at his back.

"I believe I'm doing so right now."

"You're acting like a child!"

"So are you, but I never say anything."

"I can't believe you! How do you live with yourself! You are so immature!"

"I'm living quite nicely, thanks."

No matter how many insults Helen flung at Draco, he would quickly retaliate with indifference. It reminded him of Pansy Parkinson; he smiled at the memory of her trying to persuade him into going to Hogsmeade with her that winter. No matter how she begged and pleaded, Draco refused. Finally, she gave up and went to Blaise, only to have her heart torn, shattered into a million pieces. The next year, she died. When the news first reached Draco, he thought she killed herself out of her undying love for Blaise. It wasn't so.

Draco underestimated her strength, and he really shouldn't have. She had always been the cunning Slytherin. Who would have guessed that Pansy Parkinson was being trained by the Order? Apparently, Blaise was not easily fooled. He Apparated to the Parkinsons' mansion and swiftly killed her; he then coolly informed her stunned and horrified parents that their daughter was a traitor to the Dark Lord. With that, he left. Until the Ministry's arrival many hours later, the Parkinsons were forced to stand in the same spot, staring at their daughter's dead body.

Blaise was ruthless. He became the notorious Death Eater that would torture and kill people while their helpless family watched, silently screaming. It was disgusting, and Draco wondered how _Blaise _could live with himself. Obviously, it didn't matter. If Blaise was capable of killing when he was merely 17, he was certainly capable of killing at the age of 20. Muggles would have called him a sociopath—but then weren't all the Death Eaters sociopaths?

Draco felt a strange dizziness settle within him, his vision became blurred with a strange intoxication. Perhaps he stood up too fast back in the ballroom? It wouldn't have been the first time this had happened. Even now, he never took Ginny's first advice to him. The lightheaded feeling continued as he staggered down the corridor, with Helen breathing down his neck. He breathed slowly and shakily. Helen stopped talking, as she realized there was something wrong with Draco.

"I told you not to drink anymore." said Helen in a snobbish tone that strangely reminded him of Ginny.

"Just. . . don't talk ..." Draco said quietly, as he closed his eyes irritably. "Go away."

"Don't be a prat." Helen retorted. "I'm not going to let you faint in the middle of the corridor. What would your father say?"

Draco wanted to say that his father could care less if he passed out. In fact, his father would probably sneer, "Why didn't he die in the process?" However, he was too lightheaded to even reply, and he had a very strange urge to laugh.

They reached the red oak doors that led into his room. The door flung open with a small wave of Helen's wand, and Draco tried to shut the door before she could get in. However, it was to no avail. Before he could even recall the events that led up to this moment, she kissed him gently on the lips. To his own surprise, he returned her kiss. . .

"Is that how you kissed her?" she whispered with a small hint of remorse in her voice.

"What are you talking about?" Draco said, finding himself wanting more of her and feeling more intoxicated by her touch.

She said no more. No words were needed for the action that took place between them, only the quiet sighs of lust. Draco found himself staring into her blue eyes in a mixture of confusion and hate. Just a few minutes ago, they were screaming at each other over the most trivial matters. But now, they were in each other's arms—though love was nowhere to be found.

_I watched her drift into sleep—her breathing slowed and her eyes shut out the world before her. For a moment, I lied there, watching her, knowing I could not love her like she wanted me to. I could not live to my family's expectations. Yes, it would be the most powerful union—Malfoys and Chamberlains. Both pureblood, of course. _

_I made sure she was deep in her sleep before I rose from the bed and got dressed. _

_The manor was silent. My footsteps echoed in the dark corridor, and the pale moon shined through the high windows. It reminded me of Hogwarts and my long patrols at night as Head Boy. It reminded me of the time when Ginny met me by the lake to thank me from restraining her against Blaise. It reminded me of the nights we'd walk, hand-in-hand, around the castle. One hand warmly placed in mine, while her other hand played with her necklace. This was our secret. We were so innocent and so much in love. But I left her in the most cruel and inhumane way possible. _

_Does she still think of me as I do of her? _

_My presumption is that she doesn't. I almost killed her with my words, shattered her hearts into thousands of pieces, the same way Blaise did to Pansy. Even though it didn't matter to her…it didn't matter what I was (and still am). Through her sobs and pleas, she said she loved me. She said it so blatantly, yet I could not return that love. No matter how much I longed to tell her I felt the same. I had to go on._

_It was my duty to go on. It was the Order's—and my—only hope. But look where we are now…_

_I walked on through the corridor, brooding over these thoughts. The thoughts of despair bubbled in me. Was I to be a Death Eater for the rest of my life? Was I to be feared by millions, as I walk with my face hidden behind a terrible mask?_

_I found myself in the garden, staring up at the sky. If there were some way I could write it in the stars…if I could just tell her how much I actually thought about her. The days, the weeks, the months, the years—has time gone by already? I could say that it went by both too quickly and too slowly. When I left her, I was only a boy of seventeen. Now I am twenty and feeling older by the second. _

_Time should stop…_

_With everything I keep bottled inside of me, I could explode at any given moment. All the love, the hate, the despair, the sorrow, the anger…When will it all end? _

_I Apparated to the streets of London. The streetlights were dim, and a blanket of darkness covered the city. There was no one outside, not even a whisper could be heard. My footsteps echoed and faded away into the night around me. I didn't know where I was going. And I didn't know what force was leading me to walk. If I didn't know any better, I was wandering around aimlessly. There was no purpose in my life anymore. The war was hopeless, just like it had been in the beginning. I left the love of my life behind because of the war. I just wanted it all to end. _

_I walked on, and I suddenly itched for a cigarette. I cursed under my breath when I realized I left my pack in my room. More determined to reach my destination—absolutely nowhere—I forced myself to walk on. I felt something tugging me forward. What it was, I will never know…_

_The cathedral was tall, no doubt built during, what the Muggles call it, the Renaissance. I felt so small next to it. I opened the heavy doors and walked inside. My footsteps echoed even louder in the cathedral, hitting every stained glass window, hitting every wall, hitting the high ceiling, hitting the cross, hitting the statue of Mary, hitting the marble floor—every inch of the cathedral. I winced. _

_Why was I sitting here? Why was I staring at the candles that never seem to burn out? Why was I staring at the figure hanging from the cross who was bruised, bloodied, and broken? Why was I staring at the statue? Why was I here? What led me to this place, where Muggles pray for hope and salvation? Would I find my salvation here? _

_I could hardly believe myself. A wizard, a Malfoy, a Death Eater sitting in a cathedral, wondering if there was such a thing as redemption in these Muggle relics. _

_"How are you tonight, my son?" came a solemn voice. _

_Startled, I jumped and abruptly stood from my seat. The silhouette came into the light of the candles and smiled. I noticed a white color around his neck; other than that, he was wearing all black. He wore small little spectacles that reminded me a bit of Dumbledore; unlike Dumbledore however, he didn't have a beard and his gray hair was balding. He bald spot shined in the candlelight—like a small halo. How clichéd. _

_"How are you tonight, my son?" he asked again. _

_"I—" Nothing could be said. I didn't know what to say. _

_"Do you have a confession to make? Is that why you're here so late at night?" he asked kindly. _

_"No." I said, wondering why I would tell a total stranger my sins. _

_"You look troubled." _

_"I'm fine, thanks." I said impatiently. "I don't even know why I came."_

_"Well, there is only one explanation for that," said the man promptly. "You seek the Lord's comfort and salvation."_

_"If you say so." I said, sighing at the old man's simplicity and ignorance. He shrugged and stared at the statue of Mary. She looked so sad. I wondered why. Any mother would be delighted to have the son of God Almighty. I thought I heard the door open; a chill escaped through one of the cracks, and I shivered. I sat back down and buried my face in my hands. _

_I heard the man whisper a prayer for me. I then heard him say "How are you?" Why did he have to ask three times? I didn't answer him. I stayed buried in my hands, suddenly feeling very tired. I heard footsteps—hitting the ceiling, hitting the walls, hitting the cross, hitting the statue…I tried to tune out the resounding echoes. _

Draco felt someone sit next to him, and he presumed it was the priest. Why did this person insist on prying in other people's business, particularly their sins? Draco wondered if it made the man feel better about himself; he probably felt so pure, so _noble_ after he would hear sinners confess their wrongdoings and their flaws. The priest knew that, compared to these sinners, he was one of God's favorites. It kind of reminded him of Potter.

When Draco finally took his head out of his hands, he saw that the priest had already gone. Instead, there was a hooded individual sitting just a few feet away from him, staring straight ahead. From the corner of his eye, he probably saw Draco lift his head. The person never turned to face Draco.

"That was a long prayer." The person said. It was a woman's voice. It didn't sound familiar at all. Draco wondered if she was an Unknown.

"I wasn't praying." He said bluntly.

"You don't seem like the praying type anyway." She said, almost in a scoffing way.

"Aren't nuns supposed to encourage prayer?" Draco snapped.

"Who said I was a nun?"

"Well, you look like one." Draco said. Under his breath, he muttered, "Old hag."

"I heard that," She said quietly. "Anyway, if you're not praying, what are you doing in this Holy church?"

"I don't know." Draco said truthfully. "I guess I was hoping someone could save me here, even though I've never really been the religious type. In fact, religion is just a Muggl—er…muggy subject."

"I understand."

Silence. Both of them were staring ahead, staring at the sorrowful statue, staring at the cross.

"You know," the woman said, "Every night I come here, I always wonder why the Virgin Mary is so sad."

Draco almost laughed aloud. However, he chuckled quietly and said, "I was just thinking the same thing."

It was so weird how easily he could talk with these Muggle strangers and not be able to talk to anyone else like this in the wizarding community.

"I guess it makes sense though," she continued, "Watching your son sacrifice his life for the rest of the world isn't exactly the easiest thing to do. But he comes back to life doesn't he? After three days, he comes back to her. Why should she be sad then?

Silence.

"She lost a part of him the day he supposedly died, probably felt betrayed by God. I mean, didn't he ask God why he betrayed him? Even though it was inevitable, even though they all knew it was coming. They all felt betrayed by God, I guess…" Draco trailed off.

Silence.

"Three days isn't that long." she argued.

Pause.

"I would be shocked if someone came back from the dead after three days." Draco said reasonably.

Pause.

"I could understand if it was three years though…" she said.

Silence.

"No one comes back from the dead in three years," said Draco. He wasn't sure if Muggles believed in ghosts or not. "Unless they were ghosts…"

Pause.

"Oh, I don't know if I believe in ghosts." She said. "Sometimes, I think this savior was a ghost too…"

Silence.

"It was his destiny to die for the sins of mankind though." Draco said, surprised that he had retained a lot of information from his childhood.

Pause.

"It doesn't explain why Mary is so sad though…" she said.

Silence.

"I'm she looks different in other statues. It could be just this one looking melancholy." Draco said.

Silence.

"Does God exist?" She asked.

Pause.

"Maybe you should talk to the priest about it. He would know more than anyone." Draco said. "I'm not the religious type."

Wizards were condemned by these religions. Draco remembered his third year study of Binn's History of Magic. Witches were burned at the stake by Christians, even though the fire never harmed them…Muggles were rather dimwitted, now that Draco thought about it. If they knew that these witches had magical powers, why did they think that fire could harm them?

Silence.

"That's right. Religion is a muggy subject for you." She finally said.

Draco looked over at her, but she continued to stare ahead. She dropped her head and stared at her lap. Her hood still adorned her head. This was the first time that Draco actually talked to a Muggle. They were oddly comforting to talk to.

"This is the first time I've been in a church." Draco blurted out.

"And yet you know so much about Jesus."

"My father has a copy of the book." Draco couldn't seem to remember what that book was called.

"I've been coming here for almost a year now, when my family is fast asleep. I sit here for who knows how long." The woman said with a small sigh. "I think the priest knows now that I don't really like to talk. He figures I will confess my grievances to him when the time is right."

For a wild moment, Draco wanted to tell this woman all his sins. He wanted her to know how he broke Ginny's heart, how he hurt her so much, how sorry he was. He wanted her to know how he betrayed his own family for the Order (though the woman would think him a lunatic at the mention of the Order…). He wanted her to know how hopeless he felt.

It was just a moment. It passed as soon as it came. For a really long time, neither of them uttered a single word. They just stared ahead, each lost within their own thoughts. Neither of them were really paying any head to the cross or to the holy statue next to it. Instead, they immersed themselves in the hypnotizing glow of the candles.

Suddenly, Draco smirked. "I know why Mary is so sad."

"Why?" asked the woman, keenly interested.

"She was a virgin."

Draco could almost see her roll her eyes, even though he had no idea what this woman looked like. "Oh, that's _real_ mature."

Draco shrugged and said, "Just thought I'd lighten the mood."

Silence.

_I thought about asking her name and maybe politely asking her to remove her hood. But then I didn't. What good would it be to know a Muggle's name. After tonight, it's not like I was going to see her again. I wasn't coming back to this cathedral, that was for sure. She could come here every night if she wanted to, but I wasn't going to. My mind wandered…Time passed, and I didn't even realize it. The heavy doors opened and closed, and I didn't even notice. The woman noticed, I felt her turn her head and quickly put her head back down. Reality came back to me, and I noticed that the person was walking in fast footsteps—hitting the ceiling, hitting the walls, hitting the cross, hitting the statue…_

"Mr. Malfoy," someone whispered urgently into his ear. It was one of the Death Eaters from the headquarters, one of the inferior ranking ones.

"What is it?" Draco whispered back.

The woman was craning her neck to hear. The Death Eater felt very uncomfortable and eyed her suspiciously. He tugged at Draco's sleeve and beckoned him to step outside the cathedral. Draco nodded and looked over at the woman, who quickly stared straight ahead.

"Nice chatting with you." He said shortly.

"Good bye." She whispered.

The Death Eater and Draco walked down the middle aisle of the cathedral. Footsteps echoing—hitting the walls, hitting the ceiling, hitting the cross, hitting the statue…

Once they were outside, he and the Death Eater walked a bit further until they were far away from the church.

"What is it? What's going on?" asked Draco.

"We've captured the prisoner," said the Death Eater excitedly and breathlessly, "The one we've been trying to get for months, the one that was in hiding for months…"

Draco eyes widened in alarm, which the Death Eater apparently took for surprise or satisfaction. He continued in the same enthusiastic way, "Anyway, the prisoner is in the dungeons now, the Dark Lord himself interrogating—"

"WHAT!" Draco yelled. The Death Eater looked at him in a startled way. Draco quickly regained himself but still felt panic run through his veins. He suddenly felt lightheaded again. Why was the world starting to spin? "I was suppose to interrogate the prisoner!" Draco barked.

The Death Eater narrowed his eyes. "With all due respect, _sir_, this is the Dark Lord we're talking about," he hissed, "our _master_!"

Draco did not have another breath to waste on him, and he abruptly Disapparated. He arrived at the Malfoy Manor and quickly looked for his broom. The grounds of the Death Eater headquarters, like Hogwarts, did not allow any Apparating or Disapparating. He ran to the broom cupboard and grabbed whatever was available: Firebolt.

"Where are you off to?" It was Helen. She was wearing Draco's dark green bathrobe.

"Business," he said curtly.

Without another explanation to Helen, he went outside, mounted his broom, and soared into the night sky.

The cold wind stung his face, but he couldn't even feel it. The fear he felt was numbing—if this prisoner died, it would be his fault…it would be his fault…

Draco suddenly saw the image of the Sorrowful Mary before his eyes. Why was Mary so sad? Because everything in the world was about to be ruined, despite his son's desperate attempt to save mankind from sins. Mary was mourning for the sins of mankind, how her son's sacrifice had little effect. Mary was crying because evil, like Voldemort, was still hovering over the world. Mary was weeping. Hopeless. Everything would be ruined if the prisoner died.

**Author's Note: **I don't know if there are any Renaissance-like churches in London. I've never been to London, so forgive me for not being so accurate.

Please point out any mistakes I have made. I don't have a beta right now because I never update all that often anyway...So I'd really appreciate...and I'm going to start editing my earlier chapters too.

Oh yeah, I also made a forum for Misconception (discussion or anything).

If you review, I'll update faster. It was really your reviews that made me update. Anyway, I'm sorry this wasn't the long chapter you were all hoping for. I did the best I could.

**Thank you my dear, dear reviewers. You have no idea how much your reviews mean to me. You may not think so, but I really take all your reviews to heart. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll try (No promises) to update as fast as I can!** **So for now, please review!**


End file.
